Since I was a child, I've always felt the presence of angels as something real and tangible. The whispers I heard way back then helped me become who I am today, so it's no surprise that even before my parents introduced me to the Catholic Church, I was already in communication with God and the angelic realm. Comparing the messages I received from them to the priest's sermons was like night and day. While I never really believed in the religious teachings, the divine messages truly resonated with me.
Growing up, it must have become apparent that my siblings also shared a more profound feeling (whether they knew this or not) that attending church regularly was a waste of time and effort, as when we all reached an age where we could make our own decisions, church and sermons were a thing of the past.
All the feelings and conversations with the Angelic Realm always felt like a natural part of my life. I used to feel incredibly uplifted after my sessions with my true confidants. One early morning, I heard a gentle bang while lying in bed. It wasn't frightening, but it was enough to make me glance out into the lounge since my bedroom door was ajar.
Through the open door leading to the lounge and kitchen, I could see the end of the kitchen where the fridge stood. It was illuminated in a light I hadn't seen before. Although I knew the sun was beginning to rise, this light was different. It felt unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting—a sensation of intense love enveloped me.
As I gazed up slightly towards the ceiling, which wasn't exceptionally high, I saw an Angel sitting there. I knew instantly, without a doubt, that it was an Angel. No words were exchanged, just a silent communion of energies. The Angel met my gaze, and I met theirs.
The peace I experienced, especially for someone so young, was indescribably beautiful. My immediate thought was to share this extraordinary encounter with my parents.
I waited anxiously for my parents to wake up, which felt like an eternity. When they finally emerged from their night's slumber, bursting with excitement, I raced back out to the kitchen and began to stammer about what I had witnessed. Sensing my urgency, my mum gently urged me to slow down and recount the experience.
I shared every detail of seeing the Angel and where it had appeared to me. Both of my parents regarded me with a hint of scepticism. They suggested it might have been a dream or simply a trick of the sunlight filtering through the curtains, creating patterns on the wall in the same spot where I claimed to have seen the Angel.
Feeling a bit deflated, I asked them if they believed me. My dad had already retreated to the bathroom, leaving my mum to respond. She reassured me, saying it wasn't that she didn't believe me but rather that our minds can sometimes play tricks on us.
I couldn't help but feel a sense of disillusionment. Here I was, taught about Angels, miracles, and divine sightings in church, only to have my experience dismissed as a mere trick of light. It was at that moment that my resistance to attending church intensified. Despite being compelled to go, I refused to engage with any religious teachings from that point on. My days of attending church became filled with attempts to avoid it altogether.
As I ventured out on my own, thoughts of the Angel sighting lingered in my mind, accompanied by a sense of euphoria. However, my mum's words began to gnaw at me, causing me to doubt myself. Was it possible that the sunlight had played tricks on my perception, creating the illusion of an Angelic figure on the wall? The uncertainty swirled within me, questioning whether I was deluding myself or if there truly had been an Angel perched near the ceiling that morning.
Shortly thereafter, I had the opportunity to visit my Nan again. I poured out my heart to her, recounting the event and my mother's dismissal of it. With a pearl of wisdom only grandmothers possess, Nan sat me down and encouraged me to share every detail, including the emotions that accompanied the sighting. She listened intently, her presence calming my restless thoughts.
After a moment of contemplation, Nan spoke softly, affirming what I had seen: "Dear boy, you saw an Angel." Her words resonated deeply within me, dispelling the doubts that had clouded my mind. At that moment, I felt a profound sense of validation and reassurance.
As we continued our conversation about my encounter with the Angelic being, my Nan offered me words of caution and wisdom. She warned me that throughout my life, I would encounter sceptics and doubters who might label me as fake or strange if I openly shared my experiences of seeing Angels. She emphasised the importance of discretion and discernment, advising me to tread carefully in revealing such encounters to others.
I heeded Nan's advice for many years, keeping my spiritual experiences close to my heart. It wasn't until much later in life that I began to openly discuss Angels, spirit guides, and my connection to God. By then, I had grown confident in my beliefs and no longer felt compelled to conform to the expectations or judgments of others. I had come to realise that my experiences were deeply personal and profoundly real to me, regardless of others' opinions.
Today, I speak freely about my encounters with Angels and the divine. These celestial beings are integral to my life, guiding and protecting me through their whispers and nudges. From subtle reminders to life-saving interventions, I recognise these encounters as blessings from my soul protectors, reaffirming my faith and trust in the unseen realms.
In Love, Light and Blessings.