“For he will order his angels to protect you wherever you go. They will hold you up with their hands so you won’t even hurt your foot on a stone.”
Psalm 91:11–12 (NLT)
Guardian angels—many of us know that God gifted them to us. Yet, are we aware of them? How often do we see them at work in the Bible, or do we even detect their presence in the lives of biblical characters? Do we notice our own experiences with them?
Guardian angels are heavenly watchers appointed by God. They shield us from evil and deliver us from the power of the wicked one. From the beginning of history in the Old Testament, throughout the life of Christ, and the experiences of the apostles, the Bible reveals that these celestial beings are actively engaged in our lives: recording our actions and intervening in times of danger.
From Adam’s first breath, guardian angels have protected and led people throughout the ages of history. Angels protected the storm-tossed ark carrying the precious cargo who would perpetuate humanity through generations. In addition, the animals and birds that continue to populate the planet today were on board and sheltered.
After His baptism, Jesus spent forty days in fasting and prayer, almost wilting into the desert sand. Crumpled into a heap of hunger, our Savior withstood the relentless barbs of Satan. When the persecutor left in defeat, angels surrounded their Master and tended to His great need (Matthew 4:1–11).
All these centuries later, guardian angels still minister to world populations, including you and me. Perhaps you know when you have been a recipient. Perhaps you struggle to pinpoint such a grand occasion. Much to my misfortune, I don’t recognize every time my guardian angel rescues me. Nevertheless, the ministry of these special agents of God becomes deeply personal.
I’ve been making long road trips for years. When I lived in Maine, my little dog and I trekked to Michigan several times to visit Mom. Puccini Guido, a little blond cockapoo, knew her as “Grandma.”
I remember a return trip to Maine just before Labor Day 2006 on a busy Friday afternoon. Just before I crossed the state line from New York into Massachusetts, I was in the left of three lanes, passing another vehicle. I must have been in his blind spot because the driver began to cut in front of me. I had to move, or his back end would have collided with my front end. An angel covered my hands that gripped the steering wheel as we slowed down and scooted a little more to the left, averting danger. We never left the highway.
Even though I no longer have Mom or either one of my magnificent dogs, God still leads me on some amazing journeys. My 2026 road trip was no exception.
I was nearing the end of a 76-day trek when I visited the City of Rocks National Reserve in south-central Idaho. In the 1840s and 1850s, 250,000 people traveled what is now known as the California National Historic Trail. They navigated the land of this country in the hope of discovering gold fields and rich farmlands in the west. This became the greatest mass migration in American history.
Traversing more than 5,000 miles, this trail covers parts of ten states and runs right through the City of Rocks. Those early travelers called all these rocks “a city of tall spires,” “steeple rocks,” or “the silent city.”
As the people traveled along the California Trail by covered wagon, they arrived at Circle Creek (there’s no water there now) to rest, perhaps eat a midday meal, or camp before continuing their very rough journey. Many of these travelers used axle grease to write their names on the granite along the trail, and their handwriting can still be seen today.
I found names written on the front of one monolith along the road. I strolled around to the back of it and found even more handwriting. As I began to move to the other side of the huge granite boulder, I saw some rocks in the path that were sort of like steps that looked insecure. I didn’t want to walk on such loose rocks, and I saw that other people had walked in the grass around those stepping-stone rocks.
With care, I trod through the grass because the clumps were hard and could easily trip a person. I was nearly back to the path when my boots kicked one of those solid clusters. Down I went, landing on my right knee before falling the rest of the way until my head landed in the compact sand. I was more concerned about breaking my camera or binoculars, but neither broke.
When my eyes opened, I peered directly at a rock; my head had landed right next to it. If my head had landed mere inches to the left, my skull would have cracked open. No one was around. Who knows when someone might have found me? No doubt my guardian angel moved me just enough so that I was no worse for the wear.
Remember that Psalm 91:12 says, “They will hold you up with their hands so you won’t even hurt your foot on a stone.”1 In my case it wasn’t my foot; it was my head. That night, God showed me again that He sent my angel to protect me by giving me a beautiful sunset.
Call to Action
When I drive, I often pray; instead of asking God for protection, I thank Him for taking care of me, even before a problem happens. After all, 1 Thessalonians 5:18 (ESV) says, “Give thanks in all circumstances.” I want to be thankful to God for all things, especially my guardian angel, and when hard things occur.
What would happen in this world if we were more thankful, even for the hard things? Think about giving gratitude a try.
- Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.
