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Christmas is for people ... and angels

 
Jimmy Cochran Columnist

   Come back with me a million years. God has called all the Archangels, the Seraphims, Cherubims and all the angels in the choirs and orchestras together to make an announcement. Excitement is in the air with the expectation of something wonderful. Then ... silence falls. God is about to speak.

  He tells them His plan for His world starting ... ” in the beginning.” And then God tells them about how He is going to send a part of Him ... His Son ... to be born as a baby, live a life as a human being, and will eventually be tortured and killed. At this, the angels gasped at the horror, but were quickly shushed by Gabriel, Michael and the other leaders. “Let Him finish,” they said. And God told them the rest of the story and the angels were happy and applauded with their holy, white wings.

  Skipping forward to present day, my friend, Micheal Elliott, has his own personal Guardian Angel who visits him in the wee hours of the morning at times to give him counsel and guidance. His angel has had a rough life, no doubt due to watching out for Micheal. She has tattered and torn wings; her halo is bent, crooked and tarnished, she chain-smokes, her language is coarse (even by sailor standards) and she has been known to share a beer with Micheal on occasion. But, as ticked off as she gets with him, she is always there ... giving advice and   often berating him to get back to his business of living a life of love and compassion toward those who need it most. The down and out. The hurting. The helpless. Those much like his Guardian Angel.

  Now, back to heaven. Far in the back of the angelic crowd, one angel stood apart and only gave a half-hearted clap when God made His announcement. Her thoughts?  “I’m sure God doesn’t really want me to be involved with this plan. My robes are dingy and my wings, well, they don’t completely unfold like they should. Plus, I really suck at harp playing and my singing voice is like a sick camel. I don’t even know why He invited me here.”

  Then, a light beamed down on our angel and a booming, yet gentle, voice said. “And you, my dear, will be very important to this plan. I want you to go with the choir to a hillside and tell a group of smelly, dirty shepherds about My Son’s birth. And I’m going to give you a special gift. A gift to tell others about me in a way they can understand. No pretty words like they use in the synagogues. You will speak with words that smelly, dirty people use. Words they can relate to. And, I want you to hang around the world and find those same type of people for generations to come and give them Hope.”

  The little angel tried to stop Him with all the reasons she didn’t want to do that, but God held up a finger to stop her. “And, my little angel, you will have a rough time of it. You will be tattered and torn. Beat up and weary. You will lose faith and wonder what the point of life is. But, just remember that I love you. And my Son, Jesus, will love you. And we will be with you always, no matter how much you don’t feel it. Just take care of people. Those who need help. Those who are burnt out and in despair. Poke and prod them, if you must, but just protect them.” And the voice and light were gone. And our little angel stood there for a moment and thought a rather inappropriate thought, but then she realized this might be kinda cool. God Himself had picked her. And, He had a plan for her.

  Just like us. Like you and me. So, as you go your way and feel like life is handing you a rough deal, just remember that a tattered, chain-smoking, drinking angel with an attitude and a tarnished halo is watching out for you.

  Merry Christmas to all, and for today my friends, this has been the gospel according to Jimmy. 

 

 Jimmy Cochran is a resident of McDonough, author, musician and minister.

 

 

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