"May 12 angels guard you as you sleep...
that may be a waste of angels, I don't know..."
I heard this line in a funky acoustic song on WUKY this morning as I drove carefully on icy roads to my office ... and it came back to me over and over all day long. (Which means something in light of my slippery brain.)
Here's the thing. Nothing matters more than people. And most particularly, your very own people. Which list might be expanded to include all the people you love as well as those made of the same stuff as you.
I pray 12 angels will guard my infant granddaughter twins in Portland, while they sleep and while they grow. And may 12 angels guard my Kyra as she makes her way through the world of an almost teenager by bus and imagination and feet in running shoes. I pray 12 angels will keep my Megan's view of the world alive with flying dogs and faeries. I pray 12 angels will protect Ben and his three precious ones as they make huge changes and dare to step out of comfort and what is familiar. And without question, 12 angels for Vincent to sing over his life, and 12 for Rachel and Curtis to hold those cars together, in fact, make that 15 angels for the cars. And 12 angels for Mark and Tina to give them all the capacity they need for their expanding life. And of course, may 12 angels guard my Steve and keep him with me for a long long time.
All that and I've only begun. Maybe its a waste of angels. But I don't think so. What better could they do?