Archive for 'Gabriel'

Angels: They’re Not Just for Christmas Anymore

This time of year there are angels everywhere: in malls, on Christmas cards, hanging from my neighbor’s roof — you name it. I like the ones at Rockefeller Center myself:

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We tend to focus on the one angel who brought the news of Jesus’s birth – and that would be Archangel Gabriel.  Now I know she (yes, she’s the only one depicted as a girl in art and literature) works more than that one day a year.  So I decided to find out more about this entity who was entrusted with the biggest Facebook post of all time.

"OMG!  Don't let those barn animals near the baby..!"

“OMG! Don’t let those barn animals near the baby..!”

Gabriel is — no surprise — the angel of communication.  She’s the one to call upon if you’re a writer, artist, journalist, or anyone who needs to get their message out.  This goes for psychic work as well;  Gabriel can help unblock your Third Eye and send you angelic guidance, prophetic dreams and visions (might want to not be driving when you send up your request.  Just sayin’).

Archangel Gabriel can send inspiration and motivation — and she will give you a righteous kick in the ass if you are held hostage by fear and procrastination.

If you feel like you’re not where you need to be, that you’ve fallen off your “path” — give her a shout .  She’ll get you straightened out and send you hints, info and nudges that will reveal your true calling.  So needless to say, when you’re considering a career or job change, add Gabriel to your LinkedIn contacts.

But she’s not just about communication themes: like most women, she’s got a practical streak.  Call on Gabriel if you’re trying to either get pregnant or adopt a child.  She can help if you’re buying or selling a house.  She’s also gonna help you out if you’ve overdone it on junk food, booze or anything else not Dr. Oz-approved; Gabriel will help you put down that box of  Franzia, those Salem menthols, and purify your body.  This goes for toxic thoughts, too.  After all the family dysfunction this season brings, that’ll come in handy.

When you can't get in to see THIS guy....

When you can’t get in to see THIS guy….

Gabriel is one of only two angels mentioned by name in the Old Testament (Michael is the other);  clearly,  she made an impression.  And she doesn’t mess around: when you call on her, she will push you into the kind of action that will lead to wonderful things.   So ring her up — and then “hark” to what this amazing “herald angel” has to say to you.  It will be life-changing.

An Angel On My Sofa

There’s been this thing going around on the Inter-webs, about “hosting” five of the archangels in your home.  You invite them to kick back with you for five days, before sending them on to visit 3 of your friends.  Kind of like a heavenly chain letter.  Anyway, all sorts of cool things are supposed to happen, so I figured, what the hell [oops — “heck.”  They ARE angels — so a little respect…]

"God? Yeah, we know him. Cool dude...."


Before they arrive, the house needs to be clean.  Makes sense; I mean, if the President were coming to visit, you’d clean the cat hair off the sofa, wouldn’t you?  So out came the Swiffer and Scrubbing Bubbles.

Then you set up a makeshift altar with some white flowers, and a candle that will burn the whole time they’re in residence.  I opted for one of those battery-powered ones. They look kinda tacky as they “flicker,” but if it keeps my house from going up in flames in the middle of the night, I’ll deal.  You write out 3 wishes and put them in an envelope, also set on the altar — and the last touch? An apple, which you eat after they leave.   Good thing it’s not a brownie — I would not leave THAT alone for five days.

Doesn't. Stand. A Chance.

Then, you wait. At 10:30 PM on the night they’re scheduled to arrive, you light the candle and open your front door to “welcome”  Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, Raphael and Metatron.  [Is it just me, or does “Metatron” sound like a creature from a Japanese monster movie?]  I pictured five very tall angels, tote bags in hand, checking out the digs like some old lady visiting her grandson’s girlfriend for the first time.

"When does 'Jeopardy' start?"

It DID feel like something “shifted” in the house. One of the cats ran upstairs, but he does that whenever I open the door.  I was suddenly tired and got the definite message, “Go to sleep.”  Maybe it was just because it was a little past my bedtime, but I didn’t question it.  I fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

For the next five days, I didn’t notice anything dramatic.  However, there seemed to be a lighter feeling to things.  I did get some “insights” out of the blue.  I was a wee bit nicer to people.  But the squirrels in my yard didn’t start talking to me or anything.

"Get me peanuts. The GOOD kind. And take the shells off...."

Once it was time for the angels to move on, I thanked them, burned the envelope with my “wishes” to release the energy to the universe, and ate the apple.  I was kinda hoping it would give me superpowers — but so far, my attempts at seeing through walls haven’t worked out.

I’m told  by others who’ve done this to keep a watchful eye for my wishes coming true, and to be aware of any little synchronicities that may occur in the coming weeks.  Fair enough.  Who am I to argue with how angels work?  I have to admit, it was fun to have a little magical ritual going on; and it was comforting to think I had my own NBA-sized protectors hanging about (and they didn’t even need to be fed).  While I partly expected miracles of the Biblical variety to occur, maybe it works on a subtler level.  Maybe being aware of the “little magic” that goes on, just out of range of our overloaded senses, is what its all about.  So I’m lowering my gaze from the heavens to my own backyard.  Thanks for the reminder, angels — and for kicking in beer money for the week.

An Angel On My Sofa

There’s been this thing going around on the Inter-webs, about “hosting” five of the archangels in your home.  You invite them to kick back with you for five days, before sending them on to visit 3 of your friends.  Kind of like a heavenly chain letter.  Anyway, all sorts of cool things are supposed to happen, so I figured, what the hell [oops — “heck.”  They ARE angels — so a little respect…]

"God? Yeah, we know him. Cool dude...."


Before they arrive, the house needs to be clean.  Makes sense; I mean, if the President were coming to visit, you’d clean the cat hair off the sofa, wouldn’t you?  So out came the Swiffer and Scrubbing Bubbles.

Then you set up a makeshift altar with some white flowers, and a candle that will burn the whole time they’re in residence.  I opted for one of those battery-powered ones. They look kinda tacky as they “flicker,” but if it keeps my house from going up in flames in the middle of the night, I’ll deal.  You write out 3 wishes and put them in an envelope, also set on the altar — and the last touch? An apple, which you eat after they leave.   Good thing it’s not a brownie — I would not leave THAT alone for five days.

Doesn't. Stand. A Chance.

Then, you wait. At 10:30 PM on the night they’re scheduled to arrive, you light the candle and open your front door to “welcome”  Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, Raphael and Metatron.  [Is it just me, or does “Metatron” sound like a creature from a Japanese monster movie?]  I pictured five very tall angels, tote bags in hand, checking out the digs like some old lady visiting her grandson’s girlfriend for the first time.

"When does 'Jeopardy' start?"

It DID feel like something “shifted” in the house. One of the cats ran upstairs, but he does that whenever I open the door.  I was suddenly tired and got the definite message, “Go to sleep.”  Maybe it was just because it was a little past my bedtime, but I didn’t question it.  I fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

For the next five days, I didn’t notice anything dramatic.  However, there seemed to be a lighter feeling to things.  I did get some “insights” out of the blue.  I was a wee bit nicer to people.  But the squirrels in my yard didn’t start talking to me or anything.

"Get me peanuts. The GOOD kind. And take the shells off...."

Once it was time for the angels to move on, I thanked them, burned the envelope with my “wishes” to release the energy to the universe, and ate the apple.  I was kinda hoping it would give me superpowers — but so far, my attempts at seeing through walls haven’t worked out.

I’m told  by others who’ve done this to keep a watchful eye for my wishes coming true, and to be aware of any little synchronicities that may occur in the coming weeks.  Fair enough.  Who am I to argue with how angels work?  I have to admit, it was fun to have a little magical ritual going on; and it was comforting to think I had my own NBA-sized protectors hanging about (and they didn’t even need to be fed).  While I partly expected miracles of the Biblical variety to occur, maybe it works on a subtler level.  Maybe being aware of the “little magic” that goes on, just out of range of our overloaded senses, is what its all about.  So I’m lowering my gaze from the heavens to my own backyard.  Thanks for the reminder, angels — and for kicking in beer money for the week.