In The Never Prayer, I introduce the reader to the idea of pushing. Pushing is what angels do when they want to change things on this hard, old world, to make things better. But my angels can only do so much, and in the end, human beings have free will.
Have you noticed that when you are trying to do something that is wrong, things don’t work out all that smoothly? Little things break. You might snag your coat. You might trip.
I grew up Catholic. I know when I’m doing something wrong, and I’ve noticed that things don’t go smoothly when I’m not doing the right thing. Yeah, that may or may not be angels, but still, I liked that idea, and so I put it in my book.
When asked how he knows who to help, my angel says helping people is easy. All you need to do is go outside, look, listen, and you’ll find someone to help. This world is so broken, and people are so troubled, everyone needs help.
This idea came from a story I heard from an old ex-drunk who had spent years living on skid row in Los Angeles. Hardcore bum. We’re talking the bowery, man. Where hope goes to die. But he lived there for years, stayed drunk, and somehow, stayed alive.
Until he got sober in A.A. and became an exceptional man. Anyway, it was in his early years of sobriety, and his life was still rocky, and his sobriety was as shaky as my own faith in God. As shaky as a drunk ten minutes away from earthquake D.T.’s. As shaky as a castanet on a mountain bike going downhill. Shaky.
It was the middle of the night in San Jose, and he found himself in his car, driving around. He was desperate not to drink again, but oh boy, liquor stores were huddled together on every corner, coming out of the shadows to show off their neon. And like I said, he was shaky.
But my friend had heard in AA meetings that if you didn’t want to drink, you should help other people. But who could he help at midnight? Most everyone on Earth was asleep.
He started driving south, not really knowing why, but just driving. And he drove all the way down to San Luis Obispo which is at least 2 or 3 hours from the Bay Area. But it felt right, and it was better than relapsing. So in the wee early morning hours, in San Luis Obispo, he was driving around, looking for someone to help. Following this still, sure voice inside his head.
Yeah, voices in his head. Crazy. And he was about to turn around and drive away from all that crazy when he saw them—a man, stranded by his car, with his family, as desperate as my friend felt. And he helped them and they kept thanking him, saying that he was a gift from God. That he was an angel.
Now, if God, or the Universe, or the Great Holy Muffin of All Creation can use an old ex-drunk to help someone, imagine what this force can do with us, who aren’t drunk, who are in our right minds (at times), who are healthy?
We can be angels. If we slow down and listen.
Miracles happen if we look for them. And if we don’t look, they don’t happen. It really is up to us. How grand is that?
God is where you look. Angels will talk to you. If you listen.
