Angel On the Front Porch

I pass the house most every day.
It is an older house with a front porch.
It has been on the market and off the market.
I wasn’t sure if anyone currently lived there.

There is something about an empty house.
It lacks love.
It may have a well-kept lawn; it may be structurally sound.
Without people inside, it has no life.

This house on the road to Suffern needs a dozen panes of glass,
And somebody ought to weed the walk and take a scythe to the grass.
It needs new paint and shingles, and the vines should be trimmed and tied;
But what it needs the most of all is some people living inside. (Joyce Kilmer)

I think of that poem whenever I pass.
The house has such potential.
It could have wicker on the front porch or rockers by the door.
It could beckon the weary traveler to come and sit for a while.

I passed the house the other day and saw something out of the corner of my eye.
There was someone on the front porch.
From this quick peripheral glance, it looked as if they were bending down.
After a closer look, I noticed the person was kneeling.

The person was shrouded in gray.
On close inspection, the person was not a person at all but a statue.
A statue of a kneeling angel with its hands covering its face.
For some reason, the statue made me sad.

It seemed as if the statue knew the state of things.
It was one of those days when the headlines seem to have more bad news than good.
Riots in cities, wars in countries, and cultural battles on our own shores.
The angel somehow knew.

Who put the angel on the front porch?
Does someone live there?
The angel statue seemed like something you would see on a tombstone, not a front porch.
How did it get there?

The angel statue was wearing a gray garment that actually billowed in the breeze.
It all seemed so mysterious.
I remembered seeing something else on the lawn in front of the porch.
I purposed to really look at the house when I drove back home.

As I approached the house on my drive home, I saw what was on the lawn.
There were two crosses on either side of the front door.
I imagined the angel covering its face in despair, but I was wrong.
The angel was bowing down, covering its face in worship.

The angel knew what we tend to forget, that the cross comes after the manger.
Jesus was born to die.
You cannot celebrate Christmas without the reality of Easter ever present in your mind.
The cradle and the cross.

In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord seated on a throne, high and exalted, and the train of His robe filled the temple. Above Him were seraphs each with six wings: with two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying. And they were calling to one another. “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of His glory.” At the sound of their voices, the doorposts and thresholds shook and the temple was filled with smoke. “Woe, to me!” I cried. “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty.” Then one of the seraphs flew to me with a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with tongs from the altar. With it he touched my mouth and said, “See this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away and your sin is atoned for.” Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I. Send me!” He said, “God and tell this people…” (Isaiah 6:1-9)

In the face of majesty, the angels cover their faces.
The statue of the angel on the front porch seemed to show that truth.
Before the Lord Almighty, all we can say is: Woe is me.
We are a people of unclean lips.

Because of the baby in the manger, Jesus the Son of God, we have hope.
Because of Jesus’ death and the resurrection we have salvation if we come to Him in faith.
Come to Him in faith knowing we can do nothing on our own.
Our salvation is secured because of the cradle and the cross.

The angel somehow knew.
That knowledge is too wonderful for me.
When I pass the angel statue, I will be reminded.
The cross follows the cradle.

I cover my face with my hands in worship.