When I was young, the idea of a guardian angel seemed almost like another comforting childhood story.
There was God. There was Jesus. There were saints. And somewhere in the background was this invisible angel who supposedly followed me around and kept me safe.
I believed in guardian angels because I was Catholic and Catholics believed in guardian angels. But if I am being truthful, I don’t think I ever stopped to consider what that actually meant.
I certainly didn’t consider the astonishing possibility behind it:
God assigned an angel to watch over me.
Not an imaginary protector. Not a metaphor for God’s general protection. Not merely a pleasant image we give children when they are frightened.
An angel.
A real spiritual creature created by God.
And according to the teaching of the Catholic Church, the ministry of the angels toward us isn’t something we simply outgrow.
The Catechism says:
“From infancy to death human life is surrounded by their watchful care and intercession.”
— Catechism of the Catholic Church, 336
From infancy to death.
I have read those words differently as an older man than I probably would have as a teenager.
Because now I can look backward.
And there is quite a lot to look backward upon.
Someone Has Been There All Along
Jesus Himself gives us a remarkable glimpse into this mystery:
“See that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that their angels in heaven always look upon the face of my heavenly Father.”
— Matthew 18:10
Scripture also tells us:
“For he commands his angels with regard to you, to guard you wherever you go.”
— Psalm 91:11
And Hebrews describes the angels as “ministering spirits sent to serve, for the sake of those who are to inherit salvation” (Hebrews 1:14).
These aren’t descriptions of imaginary friends.
They describe another dimension of God’s providence that exists whether we pay attention to it or not.
And I didn’t pay much attention to it for most of my life.
Recently, that has changed.
I’ve started acknowledging my guardian angel much more deliberately. I talk to him. I thank him. I ask for his protection and assistance. I even apologize occasionally for being such a difficult assignment.
For a short time, I had even given my guardian angel a name. I thought doing so might reinforce the personal nature of this relationship. After looking more carefully into the Church’s guidance, however, I learned that assigning names to the Holy Angels is discouraged, apart from Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, whose names are given to us in Scripture.
So I stopped.
And strangely enough, I don’t think that made the relationship any less personal.
I don’t need to know my guardian angel’s name.
God does.
And my guardian angel certainly knows me.
Considering some of the things he has accompanied me through, he probably knows me rather well.
Which Makes Me Wonder About My Past
Once you begin taking your guardian angel seriously, it’s difficult not to look backward at certain moments differently.
There have been times when I have fallen asleep at the wheel.
Times when I suddenly turned my head at exactly the right moment.
Times when I caught my balance when a fall could have been much worse.
Times when something inside me seemed to say, Pay attention.
Can I prove my guardian angel intervened in any of those moments?
No.
And I think we should be careful about declaring every narrow escape to be miraculous intervention. Sometimes reflexes are reflexes. Sometimes circumstances simply unfold the way they do.
But I also don’t think faith requires me to dismiss the possibility.
Perhaps someday God will show me how many times His providence protected me without my ever knowing it.
Perhaps some of those moments involved the angel He gave me.
I don’t know.
What strikes me now is that if my guardian angel has been with me throughout my life, then he was present during far more than the dangerous moments.
He was there during the years when I wasn’t particularly interested in God.
He was there when I sinned.
He was there when I made foolish decisions.
He was there when I ignored the faith I had been given.
He was there when I eventually found my way back to Confession.
He was there when I began taking prayer seriously again.
He was there when I started recognizing how desperately I needed God’s grace.
And he is here now.
That thought has changed guardian angels for me from something almost childish into something remarkably profound.
His Job Isn’t Simply to Keep Me From Falling Down
I think this is another misconception I carried from childhood.
A guardian angel isn’t simply God’s celestial bodyguard whose purpose is to prevent car accidents, falls, injuries, or physical danger.
His concern ultimately reaches much further.
It concerns my soul.
The angels continually direct us toward God. Their ministry participates in God’s providence and His desire for our salvation.
That means my guardian angel isn’t merely concerned about whether I safely arrive home tonight.
He is concerned about who I am becoming on the way there.
That changes the relationship considerably.
I can ask for help resisting temptation.
I can ask for assistance in prayer.
I can ask him to help direct my thoughts toward Christ.
I can ask for protection from spiritual dangers I don’t recognize.
And perhaps most importantly, I can simply acknowledge his presence and thank God for him.
Not worship him.
Not attempt to summon him.
Not seek secret knowledge from him.
And certainly not replace Christ with him.
Everything about the guardian angel ultimately points beyond the angel and toward God who sent him.
Imagine the Assignment
There is also something wonderfully humbling about realizing that God knows exactly who we are—and nevertheless entrusts an angel with accompanying us.
I occasionally think about my own guardian angel and wonder what this assignment must have been like.
Nearly sixty years of watching me learn lessons the difficult way.
Making decisions I probably shouldn’t have made.
Ignoring things I should have noticed.
Walking toward God.
Walking away.
Turning around.
Starting again.
I can’t have a back-and-forth conversation with my guardian angel. I don’t hear a voice answering me. I don’t see him standing beside me.
But Catholicism has taught me that reality isn’t limited to what my senses can verify.
Perhaps that is one of the reasons guardian angels become easier to overlook as adults.
Children have little difficulty accepting an invisible protector.
Adults want evidence.
And yet our faith continually reminds us that there is an entire spiritual reality surrounding the visible world.
Guardian angels are part of that reality.
Maybe It’s Time to Say Thank You
So lately I have been doing something I should probably have been doing for decades.
I acknowledge him.
Sometimes I simply say thank you.
Thank you for whatever protection God has allowed you to provide.
Thank you for the dangers I recognized.
Thank you for the ones I never saw.
Thank you for whatever quiet assistance you have given me in turning my attention back toward God.
And yes, I’m sorry I’ve probably made the assignment more difficult than it needed to be.
Most importantly, I thank God.
Because the guardian angel isn’t evidence that I somehow deserve extraordinary protection.
He is evidence of God’s extraordinary providence.
There is something deeply comforting about realizing that from the beginning of my life until its final moment, God has not left me spiritually unattended.
The child in me once imagined an angel following behind, keeping me from danger.
The older Catholic in me understands something much greater now.
God gave me a guardian not merely to help protect the life I have, but to help lead the soul I have been given toward Him.
And after all these years, I’m finally remembering to acknowledge that he is there.
A Prayer to My Guardian Angel
Angel of God,
my guardian dear,
to whom God’s love commits me here,
ever this day be at my side,
to light and guard,
to rule and guide.
Amen.
