Posts Tagged ‘God’

Angels In My Tires

Angels in My Tires

By Nancy Deming-May

August 2019

I recently read the book, Angels in My Hair, by Lorne Byrne.  It was handed to me by my sister, Diane, when we were together for my youngest son’s wedding.  We were staying with my daughter and Diane noticed a book on the shelf she had given her several years earlier.  She said as she handed it to me, “I gave this to Lauren, but I don’t think she’s read it.  You might like it.”  I read the back cover and the positive reviews.  It was written by an Irish woman who has had the ability to see and converse with angels as long as she can remember.


I’m kind of a mix-mash spiritually.  I teach yoga.  I embrace Zen, Rumi, Buddha, meditation and positive and uplifting spiritual things from many sources.  I have a real problem with the patriarchy of the Christianity I was exposed to growing up – that God is a man and is sitting and waiting to judge each of us when we die; and I’ve felt for many years that Jesus was too good of a guy to ever condemn all those Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, etc., to eternal death because they had not accepted him as their “personal Savoir.” And I cannot recite the Nicene Creed anymore – there is very little in there that I believe – though it is comforting to recite things from your childhood.


I do love singing in a choir, and churches are great for beautiful music.  I love connecting with people and doing positive things in the community and helping others.  I love meaningful conversations, (my favorite game to play is Big Talk), questioning beliefs, being open to new ways of thinking, and being around other seekers.


I have trouble with the whole “God” thing but have found if I substitute the word “love” for “God,” I can usually go along with it.  For my more religious friends, their response when I share this “big talk” of mine is often, “Well, God is Love,” and we’re both satisfied.


So, even though I have deeply questioned the “God thing”, I’m good with angels and I willingly took the Angels in My Hair book offered to me and started reading it that night.  I thoroughly enjoyed Lorne’s memoir of her life with angels – how they were around her and others almost all the time, would talk with her, sometimes share the future, and often comforted her when necessary, and I especially appreciated the end of the book when she shared pointers on how to get in touch with our own angels.  The tips that stood out for me were to talk to your angels, be open to them, listen to that little niggling voice in the back of your mind – it’s often your angels – ask for their help, and always thank them when they do help you.


So, I was in this state of mind when we were on a recent trip to Japan to visit with one of our sons and his three children.  A great visit and first trip to Japan, so that’s always exciting.  One concern, however, was when we saw the nice family vehicle our son had for transportation, and the tires were in bad shape.  They were all pretty much bald and even had threads exposed around the sides indicating a critical need for replacement.  The good news was that new tires had already been ordered and paid for; the bad news was that they weren’t in yet.  Driving around in the suburbs of Tokyo really wasn’t as much a concern as you never seem to get going too fast, but early one morning, four of us found ourselves in the bald-tired vehicle at about 4 am and headed for Mount Fuji for a day of climbing.  I remembered the tires and began right away to talk to my/our angels and ask for their help and protection throughout our two hour drive to Mt Fuji, much of which was on the highway and at much higher speeds as we headed southwest from Tokyo into beautiful rolling and then mountainous green countryside.


There were four of us hiking the mountain: me, my husband, our son, and 13-year-old grandson.  It seemed an ambitious goal given my overall arthritis, torn left-knee meniscus and recent right-foot surgery, and just general foot or knee pain with any long walks, but I had to try.  We made it to the parking lot and took a bus up to the 5th station, where most day hikers began and end their adventure.  It took us six hours to climb to the top – about 12,290 ft – and after several seizing sartorius muscles in my husband’s quadriceps, many stops to catch our breath in the thinning air, and a nice American couple with an electrolyte drink they were willing to share, we made it. We had the obligatory wooden walking sticks that we would pay to have stamps burned into at each station on the way to the top.  Once we summited, we replenished with amazing ramen noodles, lots of juices and electrolytes, and were then ready to head down.  The descent was when it really got tough for me.  That left knee became almost insufferable. Every step was excruciating, and I tried everything to distract myself.  Talking to angels, mantras, prayers, counting switchbacks and timing them helped.  The path we took up was pretty solid and then larger boulders above the tree line, but the way down was just dusty scrabble and I slipped several times, cutting my arms on the rough volcanic rocks. Finally, we made it to the starting point at Station 5 after four hours of pretty much torture – ten hours total.  We had done it.


The ride home was full of discomfort – we all hurt – and I continued my silent prayers to the angels.  “Please watch out for us.”  “Please help keep these tires safe and together.”  I pictured the angels, the tires, and us all surrounded in a white light – which is my “go to” vision for things that need safety, help, love, or healing.  Eventually, we got to the neighborhood where we were picking up the younger granddaughters, and then after more twists and turns and angel prayers in the Tokyo suburbs, finally, we made it to the home parking lot.  The girls tumbled out of the car and we hikers slowly unfurled our stiff joints and blistered feet as we tried to gather up all of our belongings from the day.  I was standing on the right side of the vehicle with the youngest granddaughter when suddenly there was a loud bang as the front right tire blew.  Lila immediately started crying at this frightening and shocking sound, and after a moment’s disbelieving breath, I started thanking the angels out loud for keeping us safe all the way up and back on the highway to Mount Fuji.  I still shake my head at the memory.  I, of course, then had to share all about the angel book I was reading and how they had kept us safe all through the day on those ridiculous tires.  The kids and grandkids may think I’m nuts, but I think we all have some pretty awesome angels who did their best to keep us safe throughout that long day in mainland Japan.  And my husband and I agreed that given a similar situation, next time we will rent a car with operational tires.  No sense in over-stressing our angels.


Have you ever had a similar experience? Please share if you are comfortable.


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