“Angels may not come when you call them, but they’ll always be there
when you need them.” – Author Unknown
Today the angel who swooped in and lighted on my path was named Naila. My brilliant, completely unknowing friend who out of the blue sent me a note asking if I’d like to have a brunch for my birthday on the very day of my sister-in-law’s baby shower (a date she had no idea had been set).
It is no surprise to me that my friend would be the one the angels whispered to, she is the closest person I know to the greatness and humbleness the wispy notion of a winged watcher conveys.
Every woman faced with fertility challenges has been in this same spot, dreading an impending celebration, which will likely rock them to their core and tear open wounds that had nearly scabbed over.
It is not that we do not want to celebrate and honor our friends, our sisters, the women in our lives, for such a wonderful and exciting “accomplishment.” Rather it’s that being face-to-face with our despair, as if forced face down in the mud to taste it, feel it, and breathe in into every part of our being, is torturous. We simply can’t stand the comments about “well you’ll be next;” or the question “so when are you going to start a family? You know you’re not getting any younger!”
So today my dearest of friends had an angel whisper in her ear, and just like an angel she swooped in and whisked me away from what would surely be more than this fragile peace I have found could sustain.
The angels do not always come when I call them, but they always, always send a messenger when I need them most.