He calls me 'angel'.

He calls me 'angel'.
My heart stops.
And I hold my breath.

You see, one of my friends is in the hospital. Struck by a sudden illness. Taken by surprise.
"Oh, you can come by this afternoon. We'll expect you."
We went to see him today, it was what made my day.
"It's good to see you guys. Thanks for coming."
He sat in his chair, in the corner, frail yet beckoning.
"We sometimes wonder why we go through the things we do, don't we?"
He spoke softly. His eyes teared up, it pained to watch. There we stood in our discomfort. I was glad we went.
"I asked God why this is happening."
His wife looked over from the side of the bed, as his voice trailed on...
"How can I make sense of all this?"
He shifted his stare, towards each of his guests. 
"Surely pain has divine purpose."
I agreed, but I was not the one sitting on his chair. Heartfelt, sincere - he shared his heart. His loved ones. His concern, his ultimate burden.
"Then I thought of those I know who need reconciliation. I said to God, "If this is what it takes, make it worthwhile, Lord"."
At his words, I ached. I sang to him. We prayed. So did he. It was numbing. 
"We listen in our sorrow for that whisper in the wind. It's louder than you think."
We stood in awe. Of life, of friends, of God. Presence filled the room. I wonder who's more blessed. Me, or the one sitting on a chair?
"You are angels, His ministering angels."

He called me 'angel'. Unbelievable.
So tonight I reflect, with a deep incision in my heart. O, that all pain experienced leads us into an inexchangeable, solid brokenness in our spirits that brings others to repentance and reconciliation.
Pain that drives the nail all the way through, and shatters our wrist bones of self-sufficiency and pride.
Pain that pins us to the cursed tree, in hope of life ransomed by each drop of blood.
Pain that locks our bodies in the darkness of the tomb for the rags of our filth, the filth of our mortality, to be exchanged for eternal glory.
Pain that takes the path of forgiveness, three times asking "Do you?", ever patient, never forsaking or condemning, but always restoring.
Pain that walks with the ordinary & untrained down the road of Emmaus, preferring calloused feet than calloused hearts.
Who do you think of that went through all that pain? And what shall we grasp loosely, so that we can trust fully, even in our pain? Not the people we love. Or is it?
Reconciliation = people. Pain should involve people. 

Our lives are to ignite others.

Job-times, to unite brothers.

Kindness, to impart grace. 

Suffering, to include those needing embrace.

Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it.

And when we forget, send angels to remind us, again and again. 

In the form of a stranger in disguise, sitting in a chair.