Angels against my inner demons

Another picture of one of the icons from the exhibition in the chapel: the angel of prayers.
Throughout this week I have been wrestling with some inner demons: the usual stuff of feelings of lack of self worth, rage against my uselessness and an inability to even glimpse the future (or so it seemed). Loving other people is one thing, learning to love myself is another.
And then there came the angels. I should perhaps explain, I am Reformed, I'm not really into angels particularly ones that look like this beautiful one painted by Didi Marmoud. And yet ... I do occassionally buy strange guardian angel knick-knacks to give to friends and have rather wacky magnetic guardian angel on the oven door.
In human form angels have helped me this week with the inner wrestling and wreckage. It won't have been easy for them, I'm not always open to help even when I know I need it. The angels have come in various forms: wearing suits and ties, lipstick and jackets, jeans and dreadlocks, designer clothes. Some listened, some talked, some brought me gifts, some walked with me, some gave me encouragement, some hugged me, some gave me advice, some watched me weep. Angels are messengers and this week I have been blessed by the silence, the words and the gentleness of my angelic visitors. Like the artist Tirabosco last week when he was decorating the water carafe I would put a halo over each of them, each is blessed and they have blessed me by opening up more than glimpses of the future again. Ah yes, and the angel bearing Italian earings inside a late Easter egg was particularly appreciated - I'm just a material girl really and one day I really should do a blogpost about my earring fetish!