Let’s be honest, if angels really did walk among us today, most of us wouldn’t notice.

We picture angels as glowing and majestic, but if one showed up like that now, people would assume it’s a TikTok filter or a Marvel promo stunt. Someone would try to collab. Someone else would try to cancel them.

That’s the problem. We expect the divine to make an entrance when, most of the time, it just shows up quietly.

The barista who covered your drink because you looked wrecked.

The friend who called at the exact moment you decided you were done trying.

The stranger who slowed down so you could merge.

No flaming sword. No trumpets. Just small mercy disguised as coincidence.

That’s what The Last Adam taught me while writing it: angels aren’t just celestial hitmen or glowing therapists. They’re reminders that maybe heaven hasn’t given up on us yet. It just learned to blend in.

So yeah, maybe the next time someone holds the door, don’t just say thanks.

 Maybe say, “Nice wings,” and mean it.