I was walking and thinking; walking and praying. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell the difference; sometimes they’re the same thing.

I’ve spent a long time on the verge of tears. At work, at home, in the car, washing up, sitting alone at night listening to the sounds of the household at rest. Women seem to understand tears. Men scratch their balls. So I scratched and wondered if tears would work.

And I thought and I walked and I prayed.

And I stopped.

I stopped to let God catch up: he’d been running along behind me, but I was too wrapped up in myself to notice. “My ways are ineffable,” he said to me, “so stop trying to eff them. I’ve got your back.”

As I returned to work, an angel, my angel, appeared behind me. Wings outstretched yet unmoving, he held himself above my head, keeping station. I wondered how he’d get through the door.

The office was full of angels, too. Each of us has one.

It’s good to be reminded.