An angel of Paradise, no less, is always beside me, wrapped in everlasting ecstasy on his Lord. So I am ever under the gaze of an angel who protects and prays for me.
The Holy Ghost is the minister and messenger of the Father and the Son, and He testifies of both Their glorious, global reality and Their connection to us personally.
I know you're shining down on me from Heaven, like so many friends we've lost along the way. And I know eventually we'll be together, one sweet day.
How like an angel came I down!
Hail, Holy Day! the blessing from above Brightens thy presence like a smile of love, Smoothing, like oil upon a stormy sea, The roughest waves of human destiny Cheering the good, and to the poor oppress'd Bearing the promise of their heavenly rest.
° “Not a ghost, but an angel.
Christians should never fail to sense the operation of an angelic glory. It forever eclipses the world of demonic powers, as the sun does a candle's light.
To feel the presence of the Lord is an amazing thing.
One does not need buildings, money, power, or status to practice the Art of Peace. Heaven is right where you are standing, and that is the place to train.
We all long for heaven where God is, but we have it in our power to be in heaven with him right now-to be happy with him at this very moment. But being happy with him now means.
When I walk into an Orthodox Church... one is immediately aware that one has stepped into the presence of what St. Paul would call the whole family in heaven and earth. You have stepped into the precincts of heaven!
The water is clearer than the air, and the air is the air that angels breathe.
We may sing 'welcome, welcome, Holy Spirit', but He does not come because of our welcome. He is no guest, no stranger invited in for an hour or two. He is the Lord from heaven and He invites us into His presence.
No fountain so small but that Heaven may be imaged in its bosom.
Among us on the earth there is His memory; but in the Kingdom of heaven His very Presence. That Presence is the joy of those who have already attained to beatitude; the memory is the comfort of us who are still wayfarers, journeying towards the Fatherland.
For with G. D., to be absent from the body is sometimes (not to speak profanely) to be present with the Lord.
A joyous little creature, so beautiful, It was as if a gate of Heaven opened as she came in.
Clouds symbolize the veils that shroud God.
Heaven-as you call it-is nowhere. Let's just put some space between the w and the h in that word and you'll see that heaven is now...here.
No, I never saw an angel, but it is irrelevant whether I saw one or not. I feel their presence around me.
Every breath of air and ray of light and heat, every beautiful prospect, is, as it were, the skirts of the (angel's) garments, the waving robes of those whose faces see God.
The breast of a good man is a little heaven commencing on earth; where the Deity sits enthroned with unrivaled influence, every subjugated passion, "like the wind and storm, fulfilling his word.
The blessing hands of Christ are like a roof that protects us. But at the same time, they are a gesture of opening up, tearing the world open so that heaven my enter in, may become "present" within it.
An angel visited the green earth, and took a flower away.
Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.
