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Authors: Lorna Byrne

Angels in My Hair (16 page)

BOOK: Angels in My Hair
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Chapter Fifteen
The power of prayer

I became pregnant again. I was twenty-five and Christopher
was two and a half years old, and this time the first three
months of the pregnancy were great; I had no morning sickness.
One morning I decided to stay on in bed, with
Christopher beside me, after Joe had gone to work. I woke an
hour or so later. Christopher was fast asleep and I gave him a
kiss and slipped quietly out of bed. I walked into our little
front room and there was Angel Hosus, sitting in a chair. He
told me to sit down.

'Angel Hosus, don't tell me something is wrong,' I said.

'No, Lorna, it's nothing serious. There is a mark on the
baby's left-hand side. The doctors will be concerned and will
send for a specialist from another hospital. You must remember
it will be okay, your baby is perfect, but it just wants to be
born in a hurry. That little baby is impatient for you to hold
him in your arms. We angels and your baby's guardian angel
will do everything to keep your baby where it is meant to stay
for as long as possible – right in there, Lorna.'

Angel Hosus reached out and touched my tummy and I
could feel the baby move.

'My baby knows you have touched my belly,' I told Hosus. 'I
felt my baby move when I was six weeks pregnant, but my
doctor said that was impossible. I know it's not. When I stand
in front of the mirror I sometimes ask God for a peep and then
I can see all the energy, spinning in a whirl. Sometimes it
opens for a moment and God shows me that my baby is
perfect.'

I asked Angel Hosus, 'Why does my baby want to come
before it's time?'

He didn't answer my question, though, instead he told me,
'You are going to have a hard time from now on, and you will
spend most of this pregnancy in hospital.'

A few days later I went to hospital for a scan and I could see
my baby.

'You seem to have a very active baby,' the doctor said.
'Everything looks fine. He's no bigger than my thumbnail but
his legs and arms are moving. He even opened his eyes and put
his thumbs up to his mouth.'

The doctor decided that I should stay in hospital for a few
days' rest and I was brought up to a ward. Joe went home but
returned that evening with the bits and pieces I would need. I
ended up staying in hospital for a week, and when the doctor
said I could go home, I felt very happy and well.

I was only home for about two weeks before I was back in
hospital again.Mum took care of Christopher so that Joe could
continue going to work – he had recently got a job with the
local County Council. Christopher fretted a lot and it was not
easy for Mum to console him, but Joe would call to my mum's
house after work before coming to the hospital to visit me, and
at weekends Joe kept Christopher with him.

Back in the hospital, I was on a drip and not allowed out of
bed. The doctors couldn't understand why I kept going into
premature labour. I spent the remaining months of the pregnancy
in hospital. During the week before Christmas, when I
was seven months pregnant, the wards were emptying and
everyone was being sent home who could be. It didn't look like
they were going to let me go home, but I kept praying to God
that I could go so I could be with Christopher and Joe for
Christmas. Christmas Eve came and, just before lunch, one of
the doctors came over to my bed and told me I could go home
for two or three days, on the condition that I came straight
back if I felt unwell.

That evening Da drove Joe and Christopher to the hospital
to collect me, and I was feeling great. When we arrived at the
cottage it looked so homely: Elizabeth, our wonderful neighbour,
had kept the fire going. Before Da left he told us that we
were invited for dinner on St Stephen's Day and that he would
collect us at about twelve. Christopher went out with his
father to close the gates as his granddad drove away, and
when they came back in I was sitting comfortably by the fire.
Christopher sat on my knee and I gave him a big hug while Joe
made us tea. I really don't remember much about that
particular Christmas, nor do I know how Joe managed. I only
remember that Christmas Eve as I hugged Christopher by the
fire and then being at my mother's on St Stephen's Day, saying
I wasn't feeling too good and asking Da to take me back to the
hospital.

He did and, two weeks later, as I was going into the eighth
month of pregnancy, my second son, Owen, was born. Believe
it or not, he weighed almost eight pounds – despite being four
weeks premature.

I don't know how Mum and Da became involved in prayer
groups, but they did and they seemed to have a great effect on
my da. He started to help people. He always had done, but now
he helped people even more than before. If he heard anyone
was in trouble, he would do what he could to help.

One particular evening, Da came up to the cottage and asked
us if we would like to come to the prayer group down in
Maynooth College that evening.

I looked at Joe and we both nodded. I was thrilled at an
opportunity to get out of the house, and I was also fascinated
at the prospect of praying in a group. I have always loved
churches and I went to mass whenever I could.

'What are these prayer groups like?' I asked.

'We have the use of a room in the grounds of Maynooth
College,' Dad replied. 'We pray together and read passages
from the Bible, then we can ask the group to say a prayer for
our own families or for someone else who's in trouble. After
the prayer meeting we usually have tea and biscuits and a chat
and socialise with each other.'

'And make new friends,' I said.

Elizabeth said she would babysit for us, and from that day
on, Elizabeth babysat for us every time we went to the prayer
meeting.

I loved that first prayer group, even though I was extremely
nervous. Being honest, I was so nervous that I remember little
of it. We did, however, become regulars and we tried to go as
often as possible.

Prayer is extremely powerful: when we pray, we don't pray
alone, our guardian angel always prays with us and so do any
other angels that may be with us at that time. Even loved ones
who are already in Heaven join with us when we pray.

Nothing is too small or trivial to pray for, and no prayer is
too short – whether it is just one word or many words. We
can pray anywhere: driving in our cars, when out walking,
during a meeting, in a crowd or on our own. Sometimes we
pray without even realising we are doing it, especially when
we are thinking of a loved one who is sick or a friend with
difficulties. When a prayer comes from the depths of our
being it is incredibly powerful, and a person's religion or
creed doesn't come into it: God hears the prayers of all his
children equally.

Prayer is especially powerful when a group of people pray
together in the same place, as we did in the prayer group, or if
people from all over the world pray for something specific at
the same time. Such prayer causes a tremendous intensification
of spiritual power.

We always enjoyed the walk down to the prayer group; Joe
would talk about different things that were happening in his
job at the County Council and we would also talk about the
prayer group. One Wednesday, as we were walking down to
the meeting, I was talking to Joe about my hope that it would
be a big group that evening – it was usually about ten people
and sometimes, especially in the summer, it was even smaller.
When holiday time was over, the prayer group would start to
grow in numbers and sometimes, because of this, it would be
moved from one end of the campus to the other.

Da went to a lot of prayer groups, but he had only been to a
few in Maynooth. He had brought us to our first one but he
hadn't been often since, so this evening I was delighted to see
him and hurried over to say hello. We walked up the steps
together and through the door and into one of the rooms on
the left. There were some people there and about twenty chairs
in a circle.We said hello and sat down. Almost all of the chairs
were full. I said to Joe, 'This is great.'

More people then came in, followed by a priest who
introduced himself as Father David; he then asked whether the
group minded if some clerical students and nuns joined the
prayer group that evening.We all said in chorus that they were
welcome. As there were already about twenty lay people in the
room, he suggested we find a bigger room. Within minutes he
was back, saying we had a bigger room in a part that wasn't
directly attached to the college and we should bring the chairs
– including the ones stacked against the wall. Everyone got up
to help.

The next room was a lot bigger than the room we had been
in previously. Soon, a lot of young clerics (young men who
were studying to become priests) started to arrive, together
with some priests – maybe about seven of them. Some nuns
arrived, too, along with a young girl who was staying in the
nuns' house on the campus. More lay people also arrived.

The room seemed to become very vibrant and full of light. I
could see a lot of angels, although not very clearly, and I could
feel the excitement inside myself. My soul was jumping with
joy. My angels were whispering in my ear that someone very
special was coming. 'I know,' I said, 'I know who's coming.' I
wanted to jump for joy and tell everybody, but the angels stuck
my feet to the ground so I could not move. 'No,' they said, 'they
would not believe you.'

I was standing to the right, inside the door, with my feet fast
to the floor, watching the chairs. The chairs were arranged in
concentric circles and as the group kept getting bigger and
bigger the chairs kept being moved around. I could see the
original idea of circles of chairs was now out of the question,
and instead an oval shape was being formed, with five or six
ovals of chairs starting from the centre and getting bigger by
the minute. People were still coming in carrying chairs.

Joe called to me to come and sit down beside him. There
were now six complete oval-shaped rows of seats around this
large room. The angels released my feet so I could move. I
could see the empty chair beside Joe, but to find my way in was
a problem. Some people got up off their chairs and moved
them back so that I could get through and eventually I got to
my seat and sat down beside Joe.

John, one of the lay people, welcomed everyone to the
prayer meeting. Then everyone started to praise God out loud,
in their own individual words. (People prayed in the way they
felt like, in the way that was meaningful to them.) The
atmosphere became highly vibrant and electric, and with the
beating of the angels' wings, the light was also becoming
radiant. I was enjoying praising God with my whole heart and
soul, I wanted to close my eyes, but the angels said no. As they
shaded my eyes I could also feel angels' hands under my chin,
holding my head up. I was starting to go into ecstasy. I could
see everyone around me had their heads bowed; they were all
in prayer and giving praise. In front, behind and at both sides
of each person, angels glimmered. The room was enveloped in
angels from the floor to the ceiling – I do not think there was
any space that was not filled by an angel.

Then one angel whispered in my ear. 'Listen to everyone,
Lorna.'

I listened and it was unbelievable. I could hear everyone
individually: some were praying in tongues, others were
repeating prayers over and over again, and some were singing
hymns and praising God from the depths of their being; from
their souls.

Slowly, the angels allowed my head to bow a little and I
could no longer feel the chair underneath me. I asked the
angels not to let me close my eyes as I gave praise and thanks
to God. The angels whispered in my ear that they would close
my eyes only a little. Then the room grew silent. The angels fell
silent.

A cloud of brilliant white light, alive with life, was gradually
engulfing the room, surrounding everything and everyone,
purifying and cleansing everyone and everything in its path.
Gradually, from the cloud in the centre of us, God as a young
man materialised and became visible; I recognised the very
powerful presence as the one I had encountered that day as a
child in Mountshannon, as I walked to my granny's house.

The young man – God – stood there, dressed in a white robe.
I could see the tip of His toes: they had a golden appearance.
His arms were down by His sides, His hands were opened,
pointing downwards, and there were beams of light coming
from them, with a gold radiance from His fingers. His face
shone and His eyes were bright in colour, radiating the eternity
of life. His hair came down to His shoulders and was curly and
bronze in colour. But how can I hope to describe a brilliant
radiant light – all life itself – full of love, compassion and hope?

God turned slowly to face everyone and, without movement,
as we know movement, God moved among the people
sitting in the inner oval circle. The people were giving praise
and thanking God in silence, in meditation, in prayer,
oblivious to Him. As God was moving among the people
sitting behind me I could feel Him; His presence was extremely
powerful. I was filled with the peace that dwells in God. My
prayer was this: if only God could stay and walk among us like
this all of the time.

When I was finished my prayer, I felt the touch of His hand
on my shoulder. God touched my soul physically in this
radiant light. How can I describe what my soul saw? Purity, in
all infinity; clarity in full.

Then in a flash of light God was gone and the room was
normal again. My eyes were fully open and I saw that the
cloud of beautiful radiant life – the radiance of God's
presence walking among us – was gone. I smiled with tears in
my eyes.

A moment or two later, everyone stopped praying and lifted
up their heads. Someone spoke and said that it filled them with
unbelievable joy and peace to pray and meditate in a big group.
Then, a young priest (I don't know whether he was a priest yet,
he might have been a clerical student) spoke. He had light
brown hair, was not very tall and had a bit of a beard or
something – or maybe he was unshaven? I'm not quite sure. He
sat in a chair in the centre circle.

BOOK: Angels in My Hair
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