Angels in My Hair

by Lorna Byrne

  But then Owen's guardian angel called out, 'Where are you going, Lorna?' I had thought that the angel just wanted me to watch the two boys pushing their enormous snowball – I turned around and there he was. Owen's angel had revealed himself to me. He was extremely tall in appearance, his eyes a stunning emerald green and he radiated a smile. It was as if he was saying to me, 'Look at what you nearly missed by turning your back on me, Lorna.' He was dressed in a suit of armour which was very fine and looked like silver, but then a moment later it changed colour, into what looked like the colour of a fiery flame, in stark contrast with the white snow all around. His feet seemed to be embedded in the snow and glowed under it, yet I know his feet weren't actually touching the ground, or even the snow. Just looking at Owen's guardian angel made me feel very happy.

  'Lorna, look at your son.' As the angel said these words, Owen stood up from pushing the enormous snowball and turned towards me with a big smile, looking very proud of himself. The next moment I saw a magnificent, beautiful energy emerging from Owen's chest, getting larger by the second. As it formed it looked like a shield, but then it took on the shape of a beautiful heart. This heart was full of life: in colours of emerald green and blue, like running rivers mingling. It was floating in front of my little son's chest, directly connected to it. I was astonished! It was breathtaking in every way.

  'What does that mean?' I asked.

  Realising Owen's guardian angel was standing at my left hand side, with his hand on my shoulder, I wanted to turn around to face him, but he told me not to. I did as he said and didn't turn to him. He continued, 'The heart is the symbol of the shield of life; the giver of life and love, the protector of the earth, of what is right and wrong.'

  I smiled and said to the angel, 'That's an awful lot for a grown man to represent, let alone a little child.'

  I asked Owen's guardian angel to help Owen on his journey, to guide him and protect him.

  'Lorna, when Owen grows up you can tell him what you saw on this day and you can tell him that my name is Angel Traffikiss.'

  I watched as Owen pushed another snowball with his brother and watched the shield in front of his heart slowly diminishing in size and I felt the touch of Traffikiss's hand on my shoulder disappear. For a brief instant I saw Traffikiss standing over Owen, and then Owen fell to his knees laughing and called out to me to help him.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Satan at the gate

  Some years ago, at the picnic by the lake, Angel Elijah had told me that God was going to test me in the presence of Satan. One day, Elijah came to visit again and told me that Satan would reach me soon.

  'I can feel him getting closer,' I said. I was terrified, afraid for myself and for my children.

  'Don't be afraid,' Elijah told me. 'Prove your faith in God.'

  It's hard to describe, but from the time Elijah had spoken to me by the lake I had been able to feel Satan travelling towards me. Imagine, I could feel him a million miles away, then I could feel him when he got within a thousand miles of me, then within a hundred. It took years from the time that Elijah said he was coming, for him to get near me, but I could feel him getting closer all the time. And now Elijah had confirmed that he was near.

  Satan got closer and closer. One day, around midday, Angels Michael and Hosus and all of my angels came and formed a half circle around me, in front of me. They said this was to help prevent me feeling the great evil that comes from Satan. Then my angels disappeared and I couldn't see them anymore. As I walked back into the cottage and closed the front door, I knew he was standing at my gate. I felt cold and frozen; I felt the life being drained from me; it was as if I was standing on the tracks facing a fast-moving, oncoming train and being told it would stop right in front of me if I had sufficient faith. I kept remembering what Elijah had said: Prove your faith in God.

  Satan must have been at the gate for weeks. I was in a permanent daze, lost in time. Then one evening, as I got into bed, I knew he was at the front door. I was feeling the power of Satan and it was unbelievably strong. I called on my angels, but they didn't seem to be answering me. Joe and the children were all asleep in our bedroom. God and the angels must have put them into a deep sleep.

  I sat in bed with my knees up and the blanket pulled up under my neck. I was trembling with fear. I sat there for some time and then, suddenly, all my angels – Hosus, Michael and Elijah – appeared and surrounded me. They told me not to be afraid, then they disappeared as suddenly as they had come.

  I could feel the presence of Satan walking into the house. He walked to the bedroom, and as he reached it, everything in the room disappeared – including Joe and the children. It was as if everything had vanished into darkness, even the bed I was sitting on. I was left alone with Satan.

  It was horrific to feel the power of Satan: all the evil, the terror, the horror. I can't say whether it was a he, or what he or she looked like, it just seemed to be a mass of bad, of darkness, of great strength and power. He had great confidence, and he certainly had no fear.

  Then God walked into the darkness. He appeared in a human form, as a young man, just as he had done in the prayer group. He was dressed in brilliant white, his face radiant and his hair dark and shoulder length. He stood on my right and stretched out his arm to me and took my hand.

  Having the presence of God on my right gave me strength. I knew God was keeping Satan at bay, stopping him from coming any closer, but I was still terrified, more terrified than I have ever been in my life. I was shaking.

  I sat in bed with Satan on my left – this great darkness, this great evil – and on my right was God. I couldn't see Satan clearly, he was just a dark mass, but I could see God clearly. >When I looked to God the fear disappeared, but when I looked back to Satan it returned, and stronger than ever.

  I realised I was being tested by God and asked to show that I was not afraid of Satan; that I was stronger than him, that I could push him away. I also knew that the presence of God and his touch on my hand gave me the strength I needed to push Satan away. Three times I repeated, 'Satan, go away. I choose God over you, I am stronger than you.'

  Each time I said this he stepped back, and by the third time he was out of the bedroom door. Then God pushed him away – out of the house, out of the area. It was as if he was pushed down a long dark tunnel into nothingness. That day I proved to God that I had the faith to push Satan away.

  Satan does exist: I have no doubt about this at all. If we allow Satan into our lives he will come in. He will act as a 'god' and may let great things happen in our lives. There may be great wealth, great external success; but at an enormous cost. Satan does not want us to evolve spiritually and will oppose those who try to open the hearts and minds of others and help them to see differently.

  Man is evolving spiritually. It is part of evolution for man to change and for the body and soul to become more united and eventually become one. I see people becoming less conditioned, more questioning and more open to exploring issues of a spiritual nature. God tests us all some time; it's part of our spiritual growth. We all have the power to push Satan away. This is something we should never forget. If we push him away he will take a step back, he has to. Unfortunately, he will still be there, but his power will be less. And we can always call on God and his angels to strengthen our hands, our belief, and our faith.

  Joe's diabetes was becoming chronic. He would frequently faint or feel very weak, and sometimes Christopher would rush in from the garden screaming that Dad had fallen over. It was very difficult for him, and for us. In most cases diabetes responds to medication, but in Joe's case it wasn't so simple, and the doctors, despite their efforts, were unable to control it. The doctors also knew that it was affecting his heart. Joe hadn't worked since being diagnosed with diabetes; he had gone for an interview as a security guard in Maynooth College – which would have been very handy as it was so close to home – but at the last moment they told him that they couldn't offer it to him because of the results
of his medical. Joe was bitterly disappointed.

  On one of the many times Joe was in hospital, a nurse suggested it mightn't be a bad idea if we had a phone in the cottage. About six weeks later it was installed, thanks to the local health authorities, but I only used the phone for emergencies and incoming calls, as I was afraid of running up a big bill. Shortly after the phone was installed, the children were playing out in the garden when a car pulled up. I was around the back cleaning out one of the sheds. (We spent a lot of time in the garden – we had a few chickens running around and a neighbour had given us a puppy.) On this day I heard a man call 'hello!' and I went around and greeted him. He was getting out of a car. Inside it was a woman and child. He asked was he at the right house. I smiled and said, 'I don't know. Who are you looking for?'

  'The healer,' he replied, 'my wife is not well.'

  I smiled but felt unsure. I knew he was looking for me, but I had never been called this before. In fact, I felt embarrassed at being called a healer – I didn't feel good enough. I took a deep breath and said, 'Yes, you're at the right house. Please come in.'

  We walked into the kitchen. They introduced themselves as Fintan and Peg and their son was called Eamon. The little boy stayed outside and played with my children, the chickens and the puppy. This was the first time that someone called to the cottage to ask me for help; I never learnt who had sent them to me or told them I was a healer. They were to be the first of many though.

  Years later, when I met Fintan again, he told me that when he saw the cottage with the children, the puppy and the chickens, he knew he was in the right place. He also told me that his wife's health had improved enormously after the visit. I got a call one day from a woman called Josie, who had been given my telephone number. Her son had been diagnosed with cancer and she had come to me looking for support. She also asked me to see another family whose son also had cancer, so we arranged that they would come the following Monday morning.

  On Monday morning, at about a quarter to eleven, a car pulled up to the gate. I opened the hall door and welcomed the family in. We shook hands as we walked into the kitchen and the father introduced himself as Dermot, his wife Susan and their son Nick. We sat down at the table in the little kitchen and Nick played with some toys his mum had brought while I talked with his parents. After a few minutes, he gave me a big smile and said, 'Stop talking, Mum, and let Lorna bless me and tell me the name of the angel who is going to help me to get better. Then I can go out into the garden and play.'

  His father told him not to be so impatient, to give me a chance, but I said it was okay. 'I'll tell you what we will do,' I said, 'I will bless Nick and pray over him and ask for the angel's name. Nick, sit on your Mum's or Dad's knee.' Nick sat on his Dad's knee. 'There is no guarantee that your guardian angel will give me his name, Nick,' I said to him, ' so you will have to pray with me as well and ask your guardian angel to open your mind and heart. When I am finished, you can go out and play in the garden, so I can talk to your Mum and Dad.'

  I had a look at him and I asked God to show me where his cancer was. I could see it, but I didn't tell anyone where I saw it. It was actually quite aggressive and I thought to myself, 'Oh God, there really is going to have to be a miracle here if he's going to live.' There was a thought in my mind that maybe Nick was not supposed to live, that his journey in this life was to get closer to God and get to know his angel. I was also aware that this could be a part of his family's journey.

  While I was praying over Nick, asking God to grant the miracle that he would get well, his guardian angel appeared for a few moments. He told me that the miracle would not be granted, that I must tell Nick's Mum and Dad to spend every moment they could with their son, that time was precious. I wasn't to tell them that their son would die, as they were not yet able to cope with that information. I was also to tell Nick the name of his angel.

  Nick sat very still on his father's knee while I prayed over him and, when I was finished, I blessed him and he jumped off his Dad's knee saying, 'Tell me my angel's name!'

  'Sit back up there on your Dad's knee,' I said. 'So I can tell you its name, and what your guardian angel looks like. Nick, your guardian angel looks magnificent. He has clothes that seem to sparkle in all colours and he has a cape that is constantly moving. He has beautiful, sparkling green boots, the most beautiful green I've ever seen. They come up to his knees, with big, square silver buckles. He has a gold belt around his waist and in the middle of it is another silver buckle.'

  Nick sat completely still on his father's knee, not taking his eyes off me. You could see his excitement as I described his guardian angel.

  'His hair is red like fires of flame,' I continued, 'and his eyes are like stars. And he has what looks like a sword in his left hand, but actually it's a sword of light and it flashes. Your guardian angel said I was to tell you that when you're feeling unwell all you've to do is ask and he will touch you with his sword of light and make you feel better.'

  Nick jumped off his Dad's knee again and said, 'Can I go out and play now?'

  His father took him out into the garden. His mother, alone with me now, started to cry and asked, 'What did the angel say?'

  I find it very hard when a parent says to me, 'What did the angels say?' and it's not good news.What can I say? Sometimes a parent will ask, 'what did I do wrong? Have I committed some big sin? Is this God's way of punishing me?' We have to understand that this is our path; the journey we have chosen for ourselves long before we are born into this world.

  'Look at your son,' I replied. 'Look at the belief and faith he has. He's not afraid. He's not afraid to get better and not afraid to go to God either. Listen to your son; he'll give you many messages.'

  When Nick's father came back in, I talked with both parents for a few minutes. I told them the angels said that they should spend as much time with their little son as possible.

  The family went off and I used to hear from them regularly. Whenever Nick was in hospital or not feeling well, he would ask his mum or dad to ring me to ask his angel to use his sword of light to make him better. No sooner would his parents ring me than the pain would be gone. Nick could, of course, ask his own guardian angel for help, but I have found with sick children that they often ask their parents to ring me, perhaps it gives them more confidence.

  One time, when Nick was in remission, he got his parents to bring him back to see me. He insisted on seeing me alone and told his parents they must stay in the car, that he needed to see me without them. When we were on our own, Nick told me that he talked to his guardian angel all the time. He told me that his angel had told him that in the future, maybe soon, he would be taking him to Heaven. Nick said that was okay with him, that he was nine years of age now. He told me that he had told his Mum and Dad that he would be going to Heaven some day soon, but they had replied that they didn't want to hear that kind of talk.

  Nick told me that his Mummy wouldn't stop crying. 'I tell Mummy that I don't mind going to Heaven and this is all right, but she doesn't listen to me.'

  I asked, 'Nick, would you like me to talk to your mum and dad?'

  'Yes, would you do that, Lorna?'

  I gave Nick a big hug and said, 'Let me pray over you now and bless you, and I'll talk to God and your guardian angel and ask them what I should say to your mum and dad. I will ask their guardian angels to help them to let you go to Heaven when the time comes.'

  We prayed together and I blessed Nick. Then we went outside to the car and I invited his parents, Dermot and Susan, to come in. Our dog, Heidi, had pups and Nick played happily with Ruth and the puppies in the garden, under the tree. I smiled as I watched them. Nick's parents fussed over him but he told them to leave him alone, that he was playing and they were to go in and sit with me and listen to what his guardian angel had said.

  Susan gave me a worried look as we went into the kitchen. We sat at the kitchen table and I spoke to them as gently as possible. I told them what their son had said, how Nick's guardi
an angel had spoken about taking Nick to Heaven someday soon. I asked them to try, if possible, to be strong and to listen to their son and to spend as much time with him as they could from now on. They cried, holding each other in their arms, sobbing. It was heartrending to see.

  Eventually, both parents spoke. They told me they had been listening to what Nick had been saying about his guardian angel taking him to Heaven for the last few months, but they found it too hard to bear. They felt a little ashamed that Nick had had to ask me to get them to listen to him. I hugged both of them, blessed them and they went home.

  A few days later, Ruth walked into the kitchen saying, 'Mum, you remember that boy I played with in the garden the other day? I liked him; he was a really nice boy. What is his name?'

  'Nick,' I replied.

  'I know he is sick, Mum. Is he going to get better?'

  'No, he's going to Heaven,' I told her.

  I saw tears in my daughter's eyes as she said, 'That's not fair! He is such a nice boy!'

  I gave my daughter a big hug; I just held her in my arms for some time and then she said, 'I'm all right now, Mum,' and went off to do her homework.

  A few months later, Nick became seriously unwell again and was in and out of hospital. Every so often, I would get a phone call from his parents, saying that Nick asked them to ring me to ask for the pain to be taken away. It always was and I thanked God for that miracle. One day, though, I got a phone call from Susan to tell me that Nick had peacefully passed away the night before. I told his mother always to remember that Nick is a beautiful soul in Heaven, and that he is beside her every time she needs him.

  It's hard to describe the effect Nick had on his family, his parents and his brothers and sisters. They had lost a son and a brother, and yet it was as if his sickness and death awoke the entire family. Nick showed them such compassion and love: it was as if God Himself shone through that child. He was different; in a way he was like an angel himself, an angel who shone for all who came into contact with him. If you go into a children's hospital you will meet children who are seriously ill, yet despite this they are happy, so full of love. Few of them have any bitterness or resentment. It's as if they are here to show us their light. I am always fascinated by the wisdom of children. Children who are terminally ill become very spiritual and so grown up, so matter-of-fact – even at as young as four. It's fascinating and very beautiful.