I don’t normally plug my own previous posts, but if you haven’t read “Toilet Parts and a One-Armed Angel” this post won’t make sense.

I swear.
I cross-my-heart-hope-to-die-pinky-promise swear that this next entry is 100% true.

So my week had been stressful yet again.  I was behind on my work. I had snapped at my sweet husband, more than once. I had a important meeting for work on Wednesday, so Tuesday night I stayed up late in the garage building new and exciting projects from cedar balls and planking (one of our clients is CedarSafe Closets). After my drill died, I stepped on a nail. After I ripped the nail out of my foot, I sawed my finger. After my finger stopped bleeding, I looked at what new and exciting projects I had made: a cedar ball Christmas ornament, a bracelet made of cedar balls, and a tie rack made of cedar planking. They all had one thing in common- I am pretty sure a special-ed monkey could have crafted more appealing objects than what I had in front of me. I was so mad. So I went to bed, hoping that the next day would be better.

I awoke Wednesday morning to find that my hopes had been dashed. I was grumpy from the time my feet hit the floor. I tried fruitlessly to de-monkify my project fiasco from the night before before hurrying off to the meeting. I just made it worse. That made me even more mad, so I am sure I said something curt to my family before stomping off to the car and heading to work.

I live just under 2 miles from where I work, so the commute isn’t very long. Downtown Florence is home to several high rise income-adjusted housing units, so seeing unusual people on the short drive to work is just part of everyday life. There are the usual suspects- the people who drive down the street in their Jazzy scooters decorated with American flags and block traffic, the couple of token homeless guys, and a lady and her daughter who daily cruise downtown together pushing an empty baby stroller (affectionately known as Mamadaughter). This particular day, however, I saw a new person that I had never seen before and will most likely never see again.

I pulled up to a red light, practicing to myself the explanation I would give everyone at the meeting for the cedar-scented trash piles I was bringing in, and how it wasn’t my fault- the drill died and I ran out of time because having a baby is hard work. That morphed into a speech I was preparing for Chris about how he never helps me and I have too much to do and am tired which then morphed into a speech to God about how this life here in Florence is not what I wanted at all and can’t I be used better somewhere else and why did we have a baby so early when we haven’t gotten to travel Europe yet and blah blah (insert pity party here).

And just like a perfectly choreographed ballet, a single pedestrian crossed the street right in front of my car. I gasped as soon as I saw him. My jaw dropped. I stared, unashamed. The pedestrian was a youngish boyman with shoulder length black hair that hung in strings down his face. He had on combat boots, wide-legged lime green pants covered in zippers and a tight fitting black shirt that perfectly accentuated the fact that he was missing his entire left arm. Yep- he only had one arm. Just like the woman in Lowe’s. He didn’t look at me, which was a good thing, because I was staring at him with my mouth hanging open like a codfish. He strolled across the intersection  and walked out of sight.

I sat there waiting for the light to turn green (it is a long light) and  kinda vomited emotion. I did that thing where you laugh and cry and are surprised all at the same time. As I said before, I am not a supernatural sort of person. I believe in the existence of angels and demons, but I never ever expect to encounter that kind of stuff in my actual life. I don’t tell people, “Angels are watching over you”. I think Touched by an Angel is one of the dumbest TV shows ever made. I don’t own any angel figurines, books, magnets or necklaces. I don’t even put an angel on top of my tree at Christmas. They’re just weird to even think about. They’re shape shifters, from what the Bible says. And the only other thing it says is that they praise God all the time and freak people out a lot. And to think that I may have just seen one with my own eyes who had one arm looked like he had just left a Korn concert was a really weird thought.

My brain quivered. Did I really just see an angel?  If not, then why is it that the last two times I have had a major pity party there has been a one armed person around to remind me that my life is not so bad? What are the odds of that randomly happening? How many one-armed people could there possibly be in this small town that I keep running  in to them?  Why am I always such a doo doo head and complain about my pretty good life? If it was an angel, should I be embarrassed that God has had to send a messenger down here twice now to get me out of my pity party? What on earth is up with their wardrobe selections? First leopard print and green eye shadow and now lime green zipper pants?

Finally, the light turned green. I turned the corner, half expecting for my Venus-de-Milo-meets-Korn messenger from God to be gone, and then I’d have to spend the rest of the day trying to figure out if it had been a stress hallucination. But lo, the angel of the Lord appeared, walking down Pine Street in combat boots and lime green zipper pants. Still missing his left arm.

I just stared and stared at him. I almost drove my car into oncoming traffic I was staring so hard. I drove past him, and decided to turn around and take a picture of him, because I figured no one would believe me if I told this story. I wasn’t sure I even believed it. All I had was my camera phone- and it is a really crappy camera phone. Here’s what I got.

Now I realize there are clearer pictures of Sasquach and the Loch Ness Nonster out there, so I blew it up and enhanced it for emphasis.

And here is the artist rendering of what he looked like up close.

If I had been thinking straight, I would have gotten out of the car and tried to talk to him, to see if he was really for real. I’m not really sure how that conversation would have gone, though. Especially if he was just some guy who had a bad accident and not on a mission from God.

Me: Hi, excuse me, but I couldn’t help but notice you have one arm, sir.
Him: Yeah? So?
Me: Well, I just want you to know I think that is great. I mean, you have really taught me a lot today.
Him: Do I know you?
Me: No, but I saw you walk by and uh, well, I know who you are, and uh, well, tell the Big Man (pointing up) thanks for reminding me I’m a doo doo head sometimes.
Him: What the hell are you talking about?
Me: Gosh, I didn’t realize you guys could use such brash language.
Him: Who are “you guys”? What the #$%^ is this? Get the !@%^&# away from me! You’re a #(*&$( and a *#&@%#$ and I hope you @^#%##&#&.

Yes,  it is best I didn’t think to talk to him.

So that is my story. I now have a salt-and-pepper shaker set of people who reminded me that my life is not nearly as bad as I think it is sometimes. Whether they were really angels or just random people going on about their day, I definitely got a message from them. My life is good. I’m a jerk. I get stressed out about things that don’t even matter and then take it out on the people who do matter. That won’t do. And as much as I want to say that it will never happen again,  I know myself. it will probably happen tomorrow. And when it does, I will try to think of my one-armed friends and realize that it could always be worse. Everyone has problems but we’re never alone in them. And just when you think that you’re at the end of yourself, there is always someone or something  there to remind you that you’re not at the end of yourself- there’s no such thing. And maybe I am a little more inclined to believe that angels really do walk among us. I might even put one on my Christmas tree this year, just as long as it has one arm and is wearing a leopard print shirt and lime green zipper pants.