When people say "a hedge of protection" or "a hedge of angels," I start imaging a bunch of angels in pleated khakis standing around, bored, waiting for the bus. Forget that. A rugby scrum is where players from both teams lock arms and heads and start swirling around in a tangle of power and aggression and swagger. That's what I want angels protecting me to be doing. I want them to be constantly brawling, like some sort of angelic version of the Patrick Swayze movie Roadhouse. When something bad comes my way, the angels don't have to warm up. They just turn to my foe and say, "You want to get in on this? We got more than enough to go around."
I tell you what, if there are indeed angels watching over me... those are the guys I want.