The tiny hand reached up from someplace under me, and grasped my fingers with determination. 

I looked down to see Jason staring up at me with a sense of urgency in his eyes, but knowing full well that I was going to do whatever he wanted.He pointed over to the west wall of the sanctuary, where there were 6 stained-glass windows in a row running along the length of the room, and started tugging at my fingers and pulling me away from my conversation with the pastor and towards the windows.I looked back into the pastors eyes, to see flickers of joy there as he lifted his hand and waved me off on my adventure. 

Jason wasn’t quite four years old yet. He had brilliant blue eyes, and a shock of blond hair that included the beginnings of darker hair just showing on the backside; a “towhead” as my mom would have described him. He was a tad bit undersized for his age, but made up for that size by having the kind of personality that would bear no interruption when he got something into his head.

As a baby in the church, there was many a time I held him as his parents attended Alpha sessions or Sunday school. If in the process of being held he got cranky, I learned to walk him around the church. As I did so, I very often leaned my mouth a bit closer to his ear and hummed “Waltzing Matilda” while bouncing him in my arms, perhaps even whispering the words to him.

We walked the two floors and different rooms of the church in the midst of the faint glow of emergency lights and street lights shining in from outside. Up the stairs, a “quick right turn” at the secretary’s office, and another right 15 paces later, and we entered the sanctuary.

I love walking Jason into that sanctuary! As you waked in, you were on the center main isle, newly carpeted and as straight a line as you could possibly make to the alter in the front of the church. The alter was a simple wooden table, with a wooden cross perhaps two feet high on it trimmed in a touch of gold. A large King James Bible stood open on it so all could see, often turned to the pastor’s favorite verse in the book of Psalms. Psalms 37:5 (paraphrased)  is “commit your way to the Lord. Trust in Him, and He will act.”  Also on the alter were two candles;… one for Jesus as God, and the other for Jesus as Man.

We’d walk up the long center aisle and stand a bit off from the alter looking at it illuminated in the street lights through stained glass windows. You’d think a baby at nearly 12 months would look elsewhere, but Jason would look with me for a bit, as the alter was about the brightest thing in the room, and there would be a peaceful silence hold over the two of us. It was as if the two of us connected in those quiet moments in front of that alter; both with an appreciation of the simple beauty of the view.

After a little, he’d get restless again, and I’d walk us humming some more over to the stained glass windows.

My wife is a teacher, and the teacher in me would come out on occasions such as these.

“Jason,” I’d whisper in his ear as he followed my hand to the first glass angel….”this is angel number 1. She is a red angel.”  Jason would follow my hands with his eyes. We’d stare till he started to stir restlessly, and I’d step over a couple of feet.

“Jason,” this is angel number 2! She is a beautiful green angel.”

We followed this procedure from angels 1 through 6, carefully noting red, then green and blue, followed by yellow and pink, and ending up on a spectacular burnt orange color that always seemed to be his favorite.This might keep us busy 15 minutes on a good evening, and perhaps only half that on a difficult night, but this always served to use up time while mom and dad learned a bit more about the Bible or spent time in small groups sharing with others the struggles that each young couple goes through. 

It is possible that Jason and I made that stroll over a hundred times with me carrying him, and each is special, but the one I remember best is that one where at age 4 he grabbed my fingers and towed me over to the angels and away from our waving pastor.

“JD, angels!” he insisted!!!So we walked over, and he counted and told the colors to me out loud, while his two year old sister followed behind, sucking randomly back and forth between her “binki” and her thumb; her own radiant blue eyes shining out under her curly blond hair.

As we got to orange, he looked up at me with an expression of triumph! He then pointed his hand up and to the right over my head. As I turned to look, I followed his point direction to see above the alter; above the projection screen that sits above the alter, to a single angel on a cross at the very top of the wall.

“ANOTHER Angel” he proudly yelled out, jumping up and down with such joy at his own cleverness that he could not contain himself. His sister starting clapping and trying to hop in her own little way, with one foot leaving the floor as the second came within a toe’s breath of leaving the floor.For a 4 year old, I was surprised that he did not run me straight to that new angel first, rather than walk me through our series, but I was happy that he connected that angel with the stained glass angels on the western wall. 

Yet Jason was not done. Next he towed me to the waiting room outside the sanctuary, where on the wall was a picture of a man preaching the gospel from behind an old fashioned alter, with the hands of angels and Jesus on his shoulder in support. Once again he pointed and told me "angel," only to quickly tow me over to the table with the free bookmarks we sometimes give away, and pointed to yet another angel. 

Over the course of the next three months, we explored every room of the church with renewed vigor, and suddenly Jason’s sister came with us every time, and soon we had two and then five and then 15 other kids walking with us on our “Angel hunts.” We carefully listed where each angel was found on a clipboard prominently hung in a place of honor on a cork board in the main lobby for quite a while. We found angels in books and Bibles and walls and pictures.

We found angels in places that I honestly could not see them, like the cracks in a wall of a room that my kids ALL said were shaped like an angel. How could I argue with all those kids;…so we got out a sharpie and the kids outlined the cracks better so I too could see the angel. While the outline looked more like a spider to me, I had to agree that “yes…it COULD be a very special angel at that!”   This elicited cheers from the group of kids now grown to 19. 

Those were the best of times. As with all things, the kids grew, and while new kids came into the church and the small groups, I was no longer part of the Alpha team, having moved on to help in other ministries where I could. Every once in a while, a child would come and get me during Sunday worship, and off a few of us would go. 

Yet real miracles come in smaller packages some times.

Back in October, I walked into the church for Sunday service, to see my best friend Jason, now 7 year olds, leading a group of three and four years olds slowly and carefully from angel to angel, helping them to count and call out the colors slowly and patiently! Jason’s mom and dad stood back a bit and smiled over to me as I entered.

“JD, Jason now is the youngest ministry leader in our church ever,” his dad pointed out.

As I looked closer, I saw four more adults standing slightly back, allowing Jason and two or three other 7 year olds lead more like 15 three and four year olds from window to window with love and patience and joy in their hearts.

“Jason is now the ministry lead for “Angel Hunt” in our church JD!” 

I looked back at Jason then, and after a few seconds, he checked to see if I was watching. He beamed me a smile and yell out “Who can find more angels in this room?” Small kids under the watchful eyes of slightly larger kids who were themselves under the watchful eyes of adults scattered and pointed and squealed in delight with each discovery they found!  

I heard the other day that a previously undiscovered angel was found a few weeks back by a four year old on the most recent hunt. Considering how many hunts there have been; how many youthful eyes have scoured each and every inch of the church; I had to consider it a small miracle of its own!

Then again, maybe another series of cracks on the walls have been re-purposed to fill the imaginations of happy youthful explorers!

Really, who are we to argue that those cracks are NOT angels?

After all, angels are everywhere!

Especially in the hearts of 7 year old boys and girls!