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 Angels
Hey, Folks! Good Morning! Blessings on you. Have a good night’s sleep last night? Are you rested and rarin’ to go today?
Coffee’s on. Mine’s the usual: three and a half scoops of very dark roasted Columbian. Better get your cup and let’s get started.
Lots of books have been written throughout the years about angels. Some of them are pure mythology, and some of them are fantasy. But there are a lot of stories that abound from folks who have had some real, first hand experiences with angels throughout their lives.
There are lots of good reasons for these experiences, too. The Scriptures abound with references to angels.
Thought today might just be a good day to talk about a few of the experiences with angels we’ve had in our family, and with some of our friends.
I stumbled across a reference to angels in Matthew 18:10 that for some reason has escaped my attention even though I’ve read this verse a bazillion times. It goes like this,
“Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones; for I say unto you, That in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven.”
Get it? Jesus is talking about children – little ones. He says that “in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven.”
For all the experiences I’ve personally had, as well as those I’ve seen with my children and grandchildren, it somehow missed me that children have companies of angels standing on their behalf before the Father.
When I was four years old (and I think I may have shared this with you before), I began to have a series of experiences that went on continuously for three years. My first reaction when I saw an angel was fright. I woke up one morning and saw an angel in my room. It scared the living daylights out of me. I yanked the covers over my head, and then slowly peeked out of the covers to see if it was still there. It was.
Actually, I have memories going back to the age of two where I saw angel wings hovering over my bed. There were lots of experiences, though (especially at the beginning) when I would awake in the early morning hours and see angels in my bedroom. The whole room was filled with light despite the fact that it was the dead of winter in Nome, Alaska and we were in the dark season (meaning that we had maybe three or four hours of sunshine during the day. (In Barrow, it’s a whole lot worse than that. You have 66 consecutive days when the son never gets above the horizon and it stays perpetually dark except for a little twilight around noon at each end of the 66-day cycle.)
There were numerous times when I awoke and saw the wall of my bedroom gone and a stairway that reached into heaven. Angels were ascending and descending, just like Jacob experienced. Sometimes, the ceiling was gone and I could see into Heaven. I could see the angels coming back and forth.
Unlike some of the experiences others have had, I never had any conversations with these angels. They were just there. Over time, it brought a peace to me and the secure knowledge that the Lord had sent these angels to watch over me. I was being visibly protected in ways I was to learn in the years to come.
Then there was the event when Dad and Mom decided we were going to go camping out in the hills away from Nome. We pitched our tent, picked berries and just enjoyed ourselves exploring. Later that evening, we built a campfire and Mom cooked us a dinner. As the sun was setting, we saw something that sent chills down our spine. A pair of wolves were slowly making their way toward us.
Dad sent my brother, Howard, and I into the tent along with Mom. He stood at the entrance to the tent and spoke to the wolves. “In Jesus’ name, you stay away from us. You will not approach any closer.” Then he prayed a prayer I’ve never forgotten.
“Heavenly Father, in the name of Jesus, post angelic sentries at our tent to stand guard around us while we sleep.” He came back into the tent, and we all went to sleep in peace.
The next morning, there was a circular path perhaps a hundred feet out from the tent. The path went all the way around us forming a circle about 200 feet in diameter. You could see where the wolves had tried to approach us. They had circled for hours – apparently a whole lot more than just the two wolves – looking for a way to get to us. The Lord had posted angels at our tent, and their presence kept those wolves at bay the entire night until they gave up and went away.
Ariella, my youngest daughter, was three years old when she began to see angels in her room. These events happened at different times of the day. Sometimes I would see her gesturing towards some spot in the room (no one was visible) and carrying on a conversation. One morning, I was sick with the flu. Ariella was in the living room. She and I were the only ones at home.
All of a sudden I heard her say, “OK!” She walked smartly into the bedroom and laid her hands on my head. “In Jesus’ name, you be healed,” she said. In minutes, all the flu symptoms were gone. Although she doesn’t seem to recall that event today, it was one of those things where I knew she had seen an angel, heard the angel speak to her, and followed the instructions she had heard. Ariella’s angels – the ones that stood before the Father – had told her exactly what to do. Her obedience was matter of fact, as was my healing from the flu that followed immediately thereafter.
Then, of course, there were the events that happened with my daughter, Rebekah, when we were having a worship gathering at the ranch in Idaho (I talked about those experiences a few days ago). Rebekah was maybe 14 or 15 years old at the time, and going through her teenage rebellion years. She resented having to be around our worship gatherings, hated the music, and wanted to be listening to her rock music instead.
One night, she stormed out of the house angrily because of the ongoing worship, determined that she wasn’t going to be a part of it, or listen to any more of it. The driveway was perhaps a quarter-mile long stretching down towards Stateline Road. She headed down the driveway towards the main road, thinking of course that she was going to go on a long walk and avoid being around our worship gathering. As she approached Stateline Road, she was preoccupied with her walkman.
She looked up and saw three very large angels dressed in white gliding towards her. It was an astonishing sight. As far as she could tell, their feet were not touching the ground. Sheer panic gripped her. Rebekah said to herself, “Legs! Turn around. RUN!” She quickly turned around and as fast as she could began to walk back up the long driveway. The angels formed a triangular pattern around her as she walked, one on each side, and one to the rear.
As she drew closer to the farmhouse, she saw an even more astonishing sight. Through the open windows, she could hear the music raised in worship towards the Lord, and the sound of worship literally enveloping the place. Surrounding the house were hundreds – if not more than that – of angels participating in the worship. This wasn’t going to be a night she was going to be able to escape the worship. She reached the house, ran in and up the stairs to her bedroom where she threw herself on the bed and curled up in the covers. She didn’t tell us until the following morning what had happened.
A few weeks prior to that event, we had been invited to share at a church in Spokane, Washington known as Eastgate. A number of our friends – brothers and sisters in the Lord – had joined us for this time of sharing what we came to describe as “spontaneous worship.” Earle and Marcia had come down from Alaska. Kitty and Rene had come from Atlin, British Columbia. Mary Ellen had come from Red Deer, Alberta. Beryl was there from Cochrane, Alberta. Robert and Sandy (who were a regular part of the ministry at Eastgate) were there, as well as Bob & Charlotte (also a part of Eastgate’s regular ministry).
As the Sunday morning service was turned over to us, we began to worship. I was playing my classical guitar and Della was standing behind me, along with Mary Ellen. Bob was playing the keyboards and Charlotte was playing an autoharp. Sandy was playing a recorder (a kind of flute) while Robert played soft percussion. Earle was at his trombone and Marcia her cello. We launched into spontaneous worship as the Holy Spirit began to give us entirely new music.
Time seemed to stand still for us. We got lost in the worship. Suddenly, folks in the church began to join in. Then we became aware of instruments playing that weren’t there – at least none that we could see. The sound of worship became more and more full-bodied as more instruments were heard. Then we realized that we were enveloped in the sounds of hundreds, if not thousands, of voices. Angels were there, and they were singing and playing instruments with us.
Although those of us who were playing our instruments and had our eyes closed couldn’t see what was happening, many folks in the church saw the angels appear visibly around us. We certainly could hear what was happening. The sound of angelic voices raised in worship sent thrills and chills up and down our spines. We were hearing instruments we’d never heard in our lives, sounds that defied our ability to describe. It changed the entire order of the morning service, and I’m not sure anyone left that place before 2:00 in the afternoon. We felt like we were standing on holy ground.
It was perhaps four years later when many of those same folks were with us at the Calgary Stampede. We had gone there to help Eileen and Jim with what was known as the Country Kitchen – a fast-food kind of restaurant that served up quick breakfasts, Eileen’s home-made cinnamon buns, coffee and other hot drinks for the Stampede attendees. We were using the profits from the kitchen to send young people to a Christian summer camp.
Michael (yeah, the same guy I kid about his green tea) and his wife, Melissa, were there with us as well. This year was different from all the rest. We’d been helping Jim and Eileen for several years at the Stampede, and I had taken recordings of some of our spontaneous worship to play at the kitchen as background music.
This year we decided to do things differently. We brought our instruments with us. The Stampede management gave us permission to set up our instruments and equipment, and provide live worship next to the kitchen – with one caveat. We couldn’t interfere with the regular entertainment on the nearby stages. No problem.
The very early morning hours, of course, were extremely busy serving cinnamon buns, breakfasts and coffee, and we were there for that primary purpose. By mid-morning the first day of the Stampede, things had quieted down from the incredibly busy early activity. Michael took over my stove-watching duties (we were cooking on a wood-fired cook stove), and Melissa was busy helping Eileen make cinnamon buns.
Those of us who were musicians went to our instruments, tuned up and began to play. After four years of operating together in this realm of spontaneous worship, we’d pretty much gotten used to each other’s responses. We took off in worship as had been our usual practice. As it became possible and practical, most of the folks there joined in the worship.
Our first period of worship lasted for about 90 minutes, and we returned to our kitchen duties. After the lunch-rush when kitchen activity quieted back to a dull roar, we returned to our worship. We were not immediately aware of anything unusual taking place, but others were.
Eileen was standing at the counter and watched something really unusual take place. There were some folks who were walking toward the counter who stopped maybe 150 feet away. They looked at each other, then backed up a few feet, then retraced their steps forward, then repeated the entire action again. Finally, they came up to the counter and spoke to Eileen.
“What’s going on here?” they asked. “You folks must be filled with the Holy Spirit,” they continued. “There is a tangible threshold out there. When you cross it, everything quiets down. The presence of the Lord is here. Step past that barrier, and you get hit with the noise of the Stampede. It’s like we are in some kind of envelope.”
Robert had been manning the mixing board and running the digital recording equipment, and we went back later to check the recordings. We had been so lost in the presence of the Lord that we didn’t realize that a blanket of silence literally enveloped the whole area around our worship. The noise of the nearby bandstand dropped by perhaps 30db. You could hear the sudden drop of background noise in the recording.
But that was only the beginning of what was taking place. Two teenage girls were helping us at the kitchen, Tammy and Lindsay Roy. Della and I had adopted these girls – unofficially, of course – and we considered them and their younger sisters (and still do) a part of our family. As the worship music was going forth, the Lord gave to Lindsay (then 13 years old) a vision of a staircase coming out of heaven about 500 feet or so from the kitchen. Angels dressed as ordinary people came down the staircase and mingled with the crowd.
Lindsay was so excited by it that she began sharing what she was seeing with everyone at the kitchen. Later, she was walking in the crowds, headed for another Stampede venue when she saw – appearing to be in flesh and blood – some of the very angelic beings she had seen in her vision. Startled by what she saw, she turned and began to walk back toward the kitchen. She caught the eye of a couple of the angels. They nodded recognition to her and smiled; then disappeared. She returned to the kitchen to say that what she had seen in a vision was more than just a vision: it was a real event, and it was happening right then.
A short time later, Michael and Melissa headed out on a short break away from the kitchen. They were discussing the angels among themselves and stopped at a Starbucks’ concession to get a latte. The appearance of some folks caught their attention as they passed by, and Michael and Melissa stopped to take another look. One of the people they were looking at stopped, smiled, and said to Michael, “I’m one of them,” and disappeared into thin air.
Needless to say, Michael and Melissa wasted no time in returning to tell us what happened. We all became aware of the fact that the ongoing worship was accomplishing something in a spiritual realm that exceeded our capacity to understand. There were numerous other events that unfolded during those ten days or so that only served to confirm the fact that the Lord was doing something quite unusual.
So what was this all about?
All too frequently, God’s people are unaware that angels surround them, that angels have been sent by the Lord as ministering spirits to watch over them, to protect them, to minister to their needs, and to become involved in events that ultimately draw us closer in our relationship to the Lord Jesus Christ.
Angels are treated by many as though they are the exception rather than the rule. The apostle Paul wrote,
“Are they not all ministering spirits sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation?”
There’s a whole lot more to share and obviously, this is a topic that is impossible to cover in a single day’s article like this, so let’s continue with this discussion tomorrow.
I’m going to go and pour myself another cup of that really dark stuff. Michael can finish his green tea. The rest of you finish your cup of coffee, and we’ll talk more later.
Have the best day of your life, folks. Blessings on you!
Blessings
on you!
Regner
A. Capener
CAPENER MINISTRIES
RIVER WORSHIP CENTER
700 South 6th Street
Sunnyside, Washington 98944
(509) 837-4657
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