What I find distinct about gratitude in the wilderness is its simplicity -- the thankfulness I feel here is for what I usually take for granted: my capacity to breathe, move and see ... For the most part, gratitude here wells up unexpectedly, in the quiet corners of the day, over events small and ordinary. Gratitude is the other side of dependence on God: to take anything for granted in the wilderness seems presumptuous, blasphemous. And so, here in these naves of vaulting stone, prayers of thanksgiving begin to edge out prayers of petition.
What remain constant in every account of angels, from ancient days to the present, is that they are both messengers and companions to humans, sent from a realm beyond usual seeing. Angels appear, and in one way or another, help us, advise us, inspire us, or amaze us.