Proclaim His Glory! MINISTRIES

Ordinary Lives Transformed by Extraordinary Experiences with God

  Guardian Angel

Guardian Angel

by Cindy L. Heflin

Praise be to the Lord, for he showed his wonderful love to me. Psalm 31:21


It was one of life’s magical moments granted by the mysterious grace of God. While raindrops gently falling from the midnight sky danced across the windowpane, soft light bathed a corner of the dim hospital room. Serenity saturated my heart as my husband and I exchanged silent glances. With quiet joy we celebrated the moment—and the miracle of our newborn daughter’s birth!

Barely an hour old, she lay cradled in my arms. Gratitude to God filled my soul as I gazed in silent wonder into her precious face. My eyes glistened with tears when I cautiously unwrapped the fragile bundle and counted her delicate fingers and tiny toes. Abundant love welling up within me nearly caused my heart to burst.

I marveled as I realized the intensity of my affection for this precious child and considered the unsurpassable love the Heavenly Father has lavished upon His children!

“Time to get this little lady back to the nursery,” said the rosy-cheeked nurse who appeared at my bedside. She carefully placed my baby into the crib and rolled the cart down the hall.

Nearly midnight, I smiled at my bleary-eyed husband nodding off in the wooden rocker. He'd been running on adrenaline since before dawn. “The third shift nurse will be in soon.” I said softly. “Why don't you head home and get some sleep.”

Bryant gathered his gear. “I love you,” he said with a tender kiss and a smile. “See you in the morning.”

Drowsy from painkillers and sheer exhaustion, I soon drifted into a deep sleep, barely noticing my nurse’s frequent exams. I’d had a routine delivery, but while I was sleeping, complications developed.

“Cindy,” a gentle voice in the darkness called, coaxing me awake. “This is Betty, your nurse,” she said. “Hon, your bleeding is heavier than normal. I called your doctor and he’s ordered an injection.” In my groggy state her words slowly started to sink in.

“If this doesn’t bring the hemorrhaging under control,” she said administering the shot, “he’ll need you back in Labor and Delivery for surgery.”    

Fatigue and medication clouded my thinking. Fear took control of my mind. Thoughts darted frantically from my newborn in the nursery, to my precious three-year-old sleeping peacefully at my parents home. Will I ever see them again? I wondered, anxiety spinning out-of-control.

I grabbed the phone to call Bryant. As I heard the dial tone, my eye caught a glimpse of the clock. It was 3:05 am. Should I wake him only to worry him– at this hour!?

Scared and alone, my emotions surged, sweeping over me like a tidal wave. Tears tumbled down my cheeks. Soon, a figure clothed in white appeared in the dim light, golden curls framing her delicate face. Smiling, she sat down in the chair by the bed and spoke in a soothing voice I recognized at once.

“As a Christian,” Betty began, “I truly believe in the power of prayer.” I forced a weak smile in agreement.

“May I pray with you?” she asked, patting my hand. I nodded.

Betty tenderly asked Jesus to fill my heart with His perfect peace and restore my body by His healing touch. “May Your angels surround her to comfort and protect,” she prayed.

As she spoke my fears subsided.

Keeping me company, Betty shared about her own children. She too, had a newborn, a two-month-old son. Calmed by the assurance that God and this “guardian angel” were watching over me, I drifted back to sleep.

A sudden crescendo of clattering jostled me from my peaceful slumber. The familiar odor of hospital food filtered into my nostrils, as a parade of hospital personnel dashed in and out of my room. In rapid succession, a busy nurse checked my vitals, a medical clerk shoved a pen in my hand to sign my daughter’s birth certificate, and a cheerful candy striper placed a breakfast tray under my nose. Staring at the bland meal, I wondered about my fearful experience. Was it my imagination? A nightmare? Was my guardian angel real or a dream?

Glancing up, I noticed my OB’s partner standing at the foot of my bed. “Looks like you had quite a scare last night,” she said flipping through my chart. “But everything appears fine, now.”

My memory sharpened as the cobwebs cleared away. Thank You, Lord for Your great love and the guardian angel you sent to comfort me! I prayed for an opportunity to express my gratitude to Betty, but was released from the hospital before her next scheduled shift. Busy with a newborn and a preschooler, my good intentions were soon thrust to the back of my mind.

A year rolled by and my daughter’s first birthday arrived in a flash. With a grand celebration, my husband and I rejoiced once again. After cleaning-up the party, I collapsed into bed, recounting all the Lord’s blessings of the past twelve months. Like a videotape, my mind played back scene after scene. While replaying the night of my daughter birth, I remembered the compassion Betty shared on that fearful night—and my prayer for a chance to thank her one day.

Suddenly, a woman’s face appeared before my mind’s eye—a young mom who had visited our church the previous week. The mental images seemed to match. Could this young mom be Betty? I wondered. A tingle ran up my spine.

The following Sunday, like a child dying to open a colossal surprise package, I couldn’t wait to get to church and check out my hunch. Dropping my children off at the nursery, I watched for the new lady. From a distance, I saw her carrying one son in her arms and holding another by the hand. Recognizing her sweet smile, I introduced myself and quickly asked, “You’re a nurse at the hospital, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” Betty replied in the same gentle voice I shall always remember.

“Your prayers and compassion meant so much to me the night my daughter was born…thank you!” I said with a warm embrace.

Awestruck, I thanked my Heavenly Father, too—for lavishing His unsurpassable love upon me—through Betty, my guardian angel!


Copyright © 2004 by Cindy L. Heflin. Used by permission of the author.

This article may NOT be reprinted without written permission from the author.  For reprint rights or comments/questions about this article, please contact the author.

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