Angels Ministering to Christ and Saints
Isaac Watts
Great God! to what a glorious height
Hast thou advanced the Lord thy Son!
Angels, in all their robes of light,
Are made the servants of his throne.
Before his feet thine armies wait,
And swift as flames of fire they move,
-To manage his affairs of state,
In works of vengeance-and of love.
[His orders run through all the hosts;
Legions descend at his command,
To shield and guard our native coasts,
When foreign rage invades our land.]
Now they are sent to guide our feet
Up to the gates of thine abode;
Through all the dangers that we meet,
In traveling the heavenly road.
Lord, when I leave this mortal ground,
And thou shalt bid me rise and come-
Send a beloved angel down,
Safe to conduct my spirit home.
Coming out from work, heading for home, I looked up as always. There above was my guardian angel, awaiting me.
I exclaimed to those about me, Ahhh, Angel Skies as I took the ever present Canon A540 out of the front pocket of the shirt and took this photograph.
We the rational, the pragmatic shun the realm of the spirit, the mystical. It is to our sorrow that we walk in a darker light, when all about the brilliant aurora of the uncreated light sparkles His glory. Grant us eyes of faith to see beyond the obvious, beyond the here and now, to the possible eternity.
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