Psalm 91:11-12 NIV
11 For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways;
12 they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
Heaven touching earth. Angels by your side.
These verses confirm something both mysterious and deeply comforting: God assigns angels to us. They are sent to guard, to protect, to guide, to intervene—each with a purpose only He fully understands.
For some, the idea of angels brings comfort. For others, it stirs fear. And honestly, Scripture shows us why.
When angels appeared in the Bible, their first words were often, “Do not be afraid.” My guess is that their power and glory—so unlike anything human—sparked fear simply because they were unimaginable.
I’ve always wondered about angels. I used to picture them watching over us from afar. About two years ago, I began reading my Bible and biblically grounded books more intentionally. I wanted depth. I wanted to grow closer to God. I wanted to understand details in the Bible more precisely.
I’ve asked God—more than once—if He would just sit down with me for coffee and walk me through the plan. Let me know what’s coming. I have told Him I am sure I would be more helpful if He informed Me of the details. That conversation hasn’t happened.
Instead, heaven met me in a hospital room.
My daughter experienced angels in a way I never expected—through an answered cry for help.
In November of 2024, during what was supposed to be a “normal” infusion, she had her first reaction to the CAR-T cells. It came fast and without warning. I was terrified it was a stroke or a brain bleed.
She would tell you I yelled at God. She’s probably right.
I dropped to my knees and cried out—desperate, afraid, but also expectant. I asked God to restore her body. I asked Him to send angels now. There was no hesitation. My first instinct was Him.
My mom was with me at the infusion, and she instinctively followed—joining me in prayer.
At that exact moment, a nurse who shares our faith “happened” to be walking past our room. She saw the look on our nurse’s face and knew something was wrong. She rushed in, dropped to her knees beside us, and began praying over our daughter.
By the time more staff arrived, the reaction had already started to subside. Her body settled. She was okay.
Later, when everything was calm again, I asked my daughter how she was doing—if she felt God was with her.
She said, “Well, Mama, an angel came when you were praying over me. She was standing behind you with her hand on your shoulder. When everything got better and more people came in, she left. I knew when I saw her that I would be okay.”
I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say.
It’s written in His Word for a reason. He answers prayers.
I don’t know why some people catch glimpses of the spiritual world and others don’t. But I find deep comfort in knowing this promise wasn’t made for yesterday—it was made for today.
The reactions still happen. They’ve become part of our routine. I hate them every time. I still pray that if the reaction isn’t part of the healing, God, please take it away. But if it is—then we will keep praying our way through it.
Verse 12 says they will lift you up so you won’t strike your foot against a stone.
I’m still waiting on God to give me clarity on that one.
I’ll always be honest here—these toes feel like they’ve been stubbed more than a few times, especially in the last few years.
And still… I trust the hands that are holding us.
Can you remember a time when help arrived at the exact moment you needed it?
When I slow down enough to really notice those moments, they help carry me through the next hard thing. They remind me that when my need feels the greatest—when I’m tired, afraid, or unsure what comes next—He is already there.
Showing up. Holding steady. Making a way I couldn’t see yet.
And remembering that… helps me keep trusting Him with whatever comes next.