It was my first day at St. Louis Christian College. I was a student and a girls' Dorm Mom while there. There were no scheduled classes, but I had to talk to a counselor, revise my study load, purchase books, etc. I had thought about setting my alarm the night before but didn't since I wasn't on a set schedule. Amazingly, at the very time I would have set the alarm, angels woke me up. Yes, it's true. You see, I have these large, 3-dimensional Siamese twin angels that were hanging on the wall above my bed. Promptly at 7:05 am they fell on my head and woke me up. Not at 3:00 in the morning, or at 5:00 a.m., or even later at noon. No, it was 7:05 a.m.
If they were made of ceramic, I would now have a big scar across the top of my head. The emergency room report would read, "Deep laceration of the upper cranium as a result of a blow to the head said to have been caused by angels." In laymen's language, it would read, "She was knocked up the side of the head by angels."
If the angels were made of wrought iron, I would be dead right now. The newspaper headline would read, "College student killed by angels as she slept." As it was, the angels were only paper mache and no harm was done. In fact, the humor of it took a lot of stress off my first day jitters.
After it happened I began to wonder if God was trying to send me a message. I silently asked, "Is that you, God? Are you trying to tell me something? I'm listening." Nothing. So I got ready and went over to the college building, still pondering my religious experience, giggling within at the type of angels God sent forth to minister to me. I had to be careful not to laugh out loud because it would leave a bad first impression on my fellow students and others who might witness my seemingly unexplainable outbursts of laughter.
I was feeling pretty good about my importance to the Lord. After all, could any of the other students say they were awakened by angels on the first day of college? No, just me. I was really proud. Then it hit me. I don't mean the angels this time. The thought hit me: they were
fallen angels. Uh oh! My whole perspective changed. There could be some real meaning behind this. After all, God is very symbolic. Was I being punished by God? Was there a sin in my life I needed to give up? Or maybe this was the equivalent to a slap in the face from Satan. Maybe he is angry at me for going to a Christian college. He thought he had beaten me down with life's problems. If so, 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮 I'm ba-a-ack 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮!Eventually I began to mutter constantly to myself -- God or Satan? -- attended to by angels? -- punished by God -- persecuted by the devil? I looked for other clues the rest of the day, but nothing, good, bad, or eventful happened that day except I fell on some icy, concrete stairs. That's bad, especially if Satan caused me to slip, but I wasn't hurt. That's good. Maybe an angel cushioned my fall. Discerning these matters proved too much for me. I was driving myself crazy trying to figure it all out.
If I have learned any lessons from my awakening, if there was any revelation (certainly not a new one), it is to be careful how I discern things. What I think is from God may be from Satan. What I think is from Satan could be from God. Or it could all be sheer coincidence. From now on any angels on high at my house will hang high above the computer table and not high above my bed. I'm not taking any chances.
