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Angels on Earth magazineAngels on Earth magazine

Angels on Earth magazine January - February 2019

Experience the inspiring stories that fill each issue of Angels on Earth magazine, from people just like you, who have found their hope restored, faith strengthened and lives transformed through miraculous encounters with angels. Angels still visit us today to guide us, and give us reassuring evidence of God’s eternal love. Discover the angels in your own life with Angels on Earth!

País:
United States
Idioma:
English
Editor:
Guideposts
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6 Números

EN ESTE NÚMERO

access_time2 min.
down to earth

MY DAUGHTER EVIE and I found ourselves alone for Thanksgiving. Her father and I were divorced, and I was relieved he had out-of-town plans so she and I could celebrate the holiday together. Her sister, Lulu, would be spending Thanksgiving with her college roommate and family in Laguna Beach, California, and I was glad she’d get a break from the long winter in Ohio, where she studied so hard. If Lulu had come home to New York instead, I would have filled the house with people and the table with new recipes, since to her, that’s what Thanksgiving was all about. Evie was different. Last year I’d noticed how shy she was when we celebrated in New Orleans, the table set for 28 to accommodate our family—my parents, my siblings and…

access_time1 min.
what’s new online

Meet the Artist Cover artist Lisa Ballard has loved nature since she was a child roam ing the fields and creeks around her house in the country with her friends. Watch her create our feather cover at angelsonearth.org/meettheartistlballard. Bridge Over Troubled Water Two children. One angel. Dozens of interpretations. We’ve collected some of our favorite versions of the beloved scene in a slideshow. Take a look at angelsonearth.org/angelbridge and tell us which one is most familiar to you. VIP Tour Guideposts visited Congo Square and other historic sites in New Orleans to celebrate Black History Month in the 300-year-old city at angelsonearth.org/new orleanstour.…

access_time7 min.
blue mountain summers

TYLER ALWAYS ARRIVED at my rural acreage in northwest Colorado ready for adventure. “I can stay one whole week, Aunt Lou Dean!” he’d say with a big grin on his freckled face. I wasn’t really his aunt. His mom, Tammy, a good friend and a single parent, lived in Grand Junction, two hours away. Because she was on her own, I’d been in the delivery room to support her when Tyler was born. He seemed like family to me too. I had pictures of Tyler when he was a toddler, playing with my dog Doubleday and sitting on my gelding. After Tyler started school, he visited for weekends here and there, and always for a week or two in the summer. He loved all my animals, the tree house, even helping…

access_time6 min.
valentine angels

With This Ring Roland and I had known each other since preschool. Back then all the girls liked him because of his sweet personality, blue eyes and light blond hair. Apparently I agreed with them, because by February of our fourth-grade year he was my boyfriend. Roland asked his mom for permission to buy me a Valentine’s Day present with the money he’d saved. She took him to the mall, where he picked out a ring with a tiny red stone. All my friends oohed and aahed about how romantic it was. I don’t even remember how our childhood crush came to an end or what I did with the ring, but over the years our families remained close. Our moms had been high school friends, so all their kids pretty much…

access_time2 min.
daily guideposts

I NOTICED the gauges in the cashier’s ears and the tattoos that tangled down his arms. He was about the same age as my older sons, and I was glad my boys weren’t pierced or painted. “I only have a dollar and twenty-four cents for gasoline,” I said. “I left my handbag at home.” The cashier counted my change. It was dark outside and bitter cold. My husband was traveling, and I’d been late to pick up my son after an out-of-town swim meet. There hadn’t been time to stop for gas before meeting the bus. It wasn’t until I was at the station that I realized I’d forgotten my purse. “Here you are,” the cashier said. He pressed a receipt into my hand, and I headed into the cold. As I unscrewed…

access_time3 min.
on my own

CHRISTMAS WAS the only thing that would get me to the airport in the bitter Oregon winter. Lord, I am dreading this drive over the mountain, I thought, climbing into my pickup truck. I’d moved to the remote town of Klamath Falls 16 years ago. I lived on 10 acres of land with six horses, two cats and three dogs to take care of. If I could handle all that on my own, I could make a two-hour drive to the airport to go see my family in Illinois. I headed out. Dead Indian Memorial Road was a two-lane mountain route with hairpin curves and no guardrails. It could unnerve even the most skilled driver, but I needed to use it to get where I was going. I wished I could play…

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