Tag Archives: synchronicities

Happy 84th Birthday Dad!

6 Feb Our Family Photo is complete!

It seems fitting that today, on the occasion of my Dad’s 84th birthday, that I revisit the amazing experience my family and I shared four years ago when we gathered together to mark Dad’s 80th birthday.  Time always marches on, and we tend to let important events slip into the recesses of memory … until something happens to trigger then.  I think that is why I have done so much writing in the past 12 years.  Once you write something down, you can let it take a back seat to every day life.  But, on those occasions when you want to bring back the memories, all you need do is look back on what was written and the feelings come rushing back. 

GIFT FOR GRANDPA

I was excited as I awoke early that Sunday morning. Today all of my plans and preparations would come full circle. In a short while we would begin to celebrate my Dad’s 80th birthday. Dad doesn’t like a lot of fuss, but he good-naturedly went along with all of our plans.

I had managed to get his birthday celebration on our local 10 pm news. I had slept right through it, but many people let Dad know that they had seen it. A picture of Dad was in today’s paper announcing his milestone birthday. And there were flowers on the altar at church …. all in honor of Dad.

Our family would gather at a restaurant later in the day to celebrate Dad and honor the role he plays in so many lives. I had hoped to secure a private room at the restaurant, but when I checked early in the week, nothing was available. I was disappointed, but I knew the party would still be the grand celebration I wanted it to be.

We arrived at the restaurant and followed the hostess to our table. Much to my surprise and amazement we had somehow managed to get our own private room after all. We were free to talk and laugh and carry on without disturbing anyone. Two of my favorite cousins – Dawn and Beth, were also joining us. They loved my Dad and were very close to him.

As we finished our meal with an extravagant chocolate dessert we all raised our glasses and toasted Dad. He smiled from ear to ear and got a little teary as he told us how proud he was of his family and how much he loved us.

Beth worked for a photographer and she busily snapped photos throughout our time at the restaurant. As we got ready to leave, we all stood proudly around Dad and took a family photo — something we had not done for a very long time.

Despite the happiness of the day, I couldn’t help but be sad. If only Elizabeth were here I thought to myself – then this day would be perfect. Our 20-year old Elizabeth, our first-born daughter and granddaughter, had died in a fire while attending college in 2003. Even though almost nine years had passed there would always be an empty chair at our family table that no one but Elizabeth could fill. And, it was especially difficult today when we were celebrating such a happy occasion.

The next day I received an email from Beth thanking me for inviting her, and she included some of the photos she had taken. She told me she was concerned when she downloaded the photos and brought the first one up, only to see a large white spot just above my head and on my husband’s arm.

Beth was dismayed and she wondered how this could have happened – would this spot ruin all of the pictures?

As she slowly viewed each picture, she was relieved to see that the white spot was found only on that first photo of our family. As Beth stared at the photo, suddenly it dawned on her – if Elizabeth had been here she would have been standing in the exact place where that white spot had been. Could it be she wondered?

I didn’t have to wonder — I knew. What a wonderful gift Elizabeth had given to her family, especially her Grandpa. I printed off the photo and excitedly asked my Dad to stop over, “I have one last gift for you I told him.”

He came into my kitchen and gently scolded me – “Kimmie, he said, I don’t need any more birthday presents! Everything you gave me yesterday was wonderful.” “Oh, I think you’ll want this one Dad, I said, – but you’d better sit down first.”

He sat down at the table with a quizzical look on his face. I laid Beth’s email in front of him, which said:

Here are 2 pictures from yesterday, I have to correct the lighting on some of the others and then will send more. Can you BELIEVE the first one? I’m not kidding when I tell you that I have NEVER had a white spot show up like that before. Dawn was with me when I downloaded them and we were looking through them. When I first saw it I said “darn it look at that spot on there”, totally expecting it to be on a whole bunch of them….then i go to the next one and it’s gone and it didn’t show up again. Dawn and I looked at each other in disbelief and said “Liz was there too!!”

I quietly laid the photo down and Dad stared at it for a few minutes and then was overcome with emotion, as he realized the significance of the white spot. We both shed tears of joy at the thought that our beloved Elizabeth had been with us yesterday on such a special day. Love never dies, and the bond we all share with those we love is never broken …. not even by death!

 

My struggle with fear … being true

14 Aug

This is my most recent article written for THE EDGE magazine.  Many of the monthly topics they have chosen for this year of 2012 resonate with my soul … http://edgemagazine.net/2012/08/my-struggle-with-fear/

 

After the sudden death of my 20-year old daughter in 2003 amazing experiences of signs and messages from her were all around me.  I was led to an amazing medium and teacher and I began to wonder if these experiences were common —  did this happen to everyone?  I didn’t think so, but I was clueless as to why they were happening to me.  I loved them – they brought me much needed peace and consolation – but why? Please keep them coming I would ask continuously, but again, why?  Eventually I quit asking why and instead my question became what?  “Dear Universe, please show me what you want me to do with these experiences!”

 

I became quite fearful and guarded.  I knew that not everyone would embrace my experiences the way I did and would hardly see them as “Godly.”  In fact, I knew there were some who would say my experiences were most likely “of the devil” – even though the bible was filled with stories of angels and visions and prophesies.

 

The journey to come to terms with my experiences of signs and messages from the dead, working with mediums and harnessing my own intuition was a rocky one.

 

I was so fearful that I would be ostracized for sharing my experiences that it was several years before I could even begin to share them with most my family – most importantly my parents.  I was quite certain they would think that their oldest daughter was delusional and most probably had “gone off the deep end.”

 

I would secretly quiz those I came in contact with to see if I felt they were open to hearing my story.  At times, it was a very lonely and frustrating exercise in futility.

I was at a crossroads.  I knew my experiences were meant to be shared with the world, but how would that happen when I couldn’t even muster the courage to share them with most of my immediate family?

 

I had no answers.  I only knew that The Universe was in charge and when the time was right it would happen.  Of this, I was completely certain.

 

Eventually, my story became “known” and I knew that it was only a matter of time before word reached my parents.  After all, we live in the same town only a block away from each other.  I knew I needed to be the one to share it with them – not some acquaintance out on the street.

 

My experiences had even become part of a book, True Stories of Messages From Beyond, and still my parents were in the dark.

 

It all came to a head at a family reunion.  Several of my cousins and an Aunt and Uncle or two had read my story.  We had no more than exited the car when they approached me and began to share how much they had enjoyed reading my story and how amazing my signs and messages had been.

I would quickly thank them and then pull them aside and whisper that this was all fine and dandy but hey, my folks don’t know anything about this – so don’t mention it to them okay?

 

By the end of the day I knew how absolutely ridiculous the situation had become.

It was clear the time had come to share my secrets.  I dropped Mom and Dad off at their home and returned to mine.  I went into my office and pulled a copy of my book off the shelf.

 

I returned to my childhood home, finding my Mom busy in the kitchen and my Dad enjoying an afternoon nap. “Mom, I said, I have something to tell you and you need to sit down.  “I don’t think you are ready for this, but I wanted you to find out from me and not someone else.”  I laid the book in front of her and she read the cover.  She opened up the pages and saw my story of Elizabeth.

 

Much to my complete shock, she proceeded to tell me that she wasn’t surprised.  She had googled my name a while back and knew all about it!

 

I returned home and no more than an hour later my phone rang – it was Mom — she had already finished reading my story and she told me through her tears how proud and happy she was.

I look back on that time now and all I can do is laugh.  I was so sure that my experiences would be discounted that I didn’t give my family a chance.  I have now come “out of the spiritual closet” and have only encountered a smattering of souls who did not approve of my experiences, and that’s just fine with me … after all everyone is entitled to their own beliefs.  I would never force my personal beliefs on anyone.  All I can continue to do is to share my journey in the hope that perhaps it will help someone else along the way … always with God leading the way.

 

Eight

9 Sep

The number eight has been rolling around in my brain for the past few days.  I assumed it was because we will soon be marking the eighth anniversary of my daughter’s death.

However, it dawned on me yesterday that there was more to it than that.  I realized that September 12th would have been her 28th birthday and eight days after her birthday is the 20th – the day she died – eight years ago.

As all of those realities sank in, I began to see the number eight in my mind’s eye.  And I began to pay attention.

Notice that once you put your pen on paper you can make an eight in one fluid motion and you have two circles that intersect one on top of the other.  This is a metaphor for the relationship that Liz and I continue to share.

Our lives will always intersect.  She will always play a part in my life and I will always play a part in hers.  Each circle represents one of us.  The top circle represents Liz because she is now on a higher plain than I am.  Her energy vibrates at a much higher level than mine does.  She has moved on to a higher plain of existence or heaven, so she is the top circle – I continue my work here on earth so I represent the bottom circle – we are in different worlds – but yet still solidly connected.

Look again at the eight — it is like a path that can be followed.  You may start out at the top and work your way down (to earth) and then continue to go back up — Liz did that.  Or you can start at the top and continue down and follow the same road as long as you need to and then you switch lanes and move up — but whatever your path you always remain connected.

Whenever September rolls around I try to make sense of things — but most of the time there is no sense to be made — it just is.  Choices were made and consequences followed — for both of us.  But what gives me comfort and solace today is the gentle nudge that I believe Liz is giving me to remember that just like the number eight our lives will always be intersecting with each other.  And one day, when my job here is complete I will move to that top circle and we will truly be together – two balls of love-filled energy.

That knowing makes me smile and it is what will make the days of September just a little bit easier to bear.

Thank you Liz — once again — you never cease to amaze me!

Love,

Mom

PS – I just realized – today is the 9th – I should have paid more attention and made this post yesterday! Oh well.

 

Books N Beyond

28 Feb

There is a new book club starting up in town.  The first book selection is True Stories of Messages From Beyond by Julie Aydlott and Friends.

I have been asked to be the kick-off speaker this Thursday night at 7:00 pm at the Hy-Vee Club room.

Our paper did a story about it yesterday.

http://www.owatonna.com/news.php?viewStory=114857

Take A Soul Step With Me

25 Jan

I will be a guest on the radio program, Take a Soul Step with Me, hosted by Cathryn Taylor on Blog Talk Radio on Wednesday, January 27th at 5:00 pm CST.

Click below to listen to the show.

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/healthandharmonynetwork/2010/01/27/take-a-soul-step-with-me-beyond-compassion

If you would like to learn more about Cathryn Taylor and her work please visit her website:

http://joincathryntaylor.com/

EnJOY your day!

With Gratitude

19 Aug

For most of these past six years, I have known that the experiences I have had were not just for me. They were meant to be shared.

Today I took another step in making that a reality.

My story of “The French Lesson” was published in the Sept/Oct issue of Angels on Earth magazine.

Liz’s picture and story will be read by countless people now and I am so incredibly grateful to God for making it happen.

Dreams Are Important

15 Jul

A friend of mine sent me a true story today that really brings home the importance of dreams.

Most of the time dreams don’t make sense (at least to me). But, sometimes they do bring us clear, concise messages, that leave very little need for interpretation. We can choose to share, to heed, or to keep these dreams to ourselves or to completely ignore them.

Here is the story:

A high school friend of mine, Barb, was at lunch today; the last I had heard she was in the hospital for surgery. It all started with a rash on her neck that wouldn’t go away – she got medication for it but it just got worse.

Then this 70 year old woman began spotting.

Her 17 year old granddaughter came to her one day and asked when was the last time she had a physical. It had been several years ago. She got upset and said that she had a very clear dream that she was at her Grandma’s funeral, she couldn’t get the dream out of her mind, and Grandma needed to get a check-up.

Later when Barb told her son of the granddaughter’s dream, he just looked at her and said, “Mom, call for an appointment now. I had the same dream”.

Barb is a very religious lady. She felt she could not ignore what seemed to be a clear message and so she made the appointment. The doctors discovered cancer that was eating through the wall of the uterus, and in a short while would have invaded the rest of her body. As it was, she just had to undergo a hysterectomy with no follow-up care.
* * * * *
Two things really stand out for me. The most important lesson is that when we have a life or death dream about someone, it is imperative that we share it with that person.

Put aside all thoughts of feeling silly, wierd or cooky, share the dream.

Whether the other person believes it or heeds it, is not your concern.

No one wants to look back and wish they had shared something with someone, especially someone they love, and they did not – and because they did not, a completely different outcome ensued.

Another important point is that if someone steps out and shares a dream they had about you – listen!

In this case, two people had the same dream. If neither one had shared it, I dare say the outcome of this story would have been very different.

Dreams are important.

Dreams have messages to make our lives better.

It is always our choice how we act or react to them when we receive them.

Another Stunning Example

20 Apr

If my last post didn’t convince you of God’s intimate presence in our lives, perhaps this one will.   This story comes directly from Phil Bolsta’s blog, http://bolstablog.com

 Keep in mind, though,  that whether or not this gentlemen listened to what he was being told, he still would have been fine – the outcomes would have been completely different, of course, but HE still would have been fine.  Different lessons would have been learned, but HE STILL WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE.

Now … on to the story:
When Christopher Barbour, a clairvoyant intuitive and writer who assists law enforcement with difficult cases, told me these two amazing stories about how his angel saved his life, I knew I had to share them here. Goose bump alert!

As far back as I can remember, I have always felt watched over and cared about by a divine mysterious creator, and what I would call a spiritual support system. Thankfully, this inner life of mine was not foisted upon me by organized religion or well meaning family members—it’s always been there, and always will be there.

When I was seven, episodes of clairvoyance and intuition spontaneously began to bubble to the surface in my life. These experiences always took me directly to the sacred and the mysteries that we all share. That intuitive wiring of mine would eventually become part of my work, expressed via a path of mysticism and service.

If you asked me prior to when I reached my 30s if I believed in angels, I would have said, ”Of course!” I would have answered that question looking through the prism of faith, combined with an inner knowing, as well as through reading accounts in ancient sacred texts, and listening to stories people have shared with me over the years about encounters with angels.

angel-in-forest

In the fall of 2002, I was dealing with some difficult personal and family issues and was rebounding from the death of a friend who had a long struggle with heroin addiction and eventually died of complications from hepatitis. I was in such a state that no amount of praying, meditation or discussion with my support system was helping. I was in a crisis mode unlike anything I had experienced before, and decided one blustery fall day, to take a long walk in a forest near my home in northern Arizona that many have described as “magical.” Walks alone in nature had become my way to deal with my mysteries and some of the darkness of my work, so it seemed the perfect thing for me to do under the circumstances.

My walk began normally but within about forty-five minutes, I had become so entrenched in my own head and problems that I hadn’t realized that I had veered off the path and was walking through a thicket of small trees and shrubs. I kept walking for several more minutes, approaching a line of low shrubs, when I heard a woman call my name. The voice that called “Christopher!” was female, and though I couldn’t place her, she sounded familiar; she shouted my name as only someone who knew me very well would.

I froze on the spot and looked to my left where the voice seemed to come from, and briefly saw a beautiful woman with long, light brown hair and a light colored diaphanous gown. She disappeared after a few seconds, before I was able to get a good look at her. I looked down and realized that I was no longer on the path, and that if I had taken one more step, I would have fallen forty feet onto jagged rocks below. I stood there, alone in the forest, closed my eyes and said to her, “Thank you, thank you, thank you . . .” 

car-ditch-snow

In early December 2004, I booked a trip back to the east coast to see my family in Connecticut for the holidays. I had arranged my trip so that I would return to Arizona on January 4th, after the holiday travel rush. One evening, I got into bed and fell into that state just before sleep called the hypnogogic state.

That is when a profound vision was downloaded into me. I was shown a scenario, seen from my own point of view, of flying back to Arizona from the east coast. It was stormy and raining as the plane landed. I looked to my left and in the seat next to me, there she was again, my angel—beautiful, light-filled, with long hair—the same woman who had called my name that day in the forest two years earlier. She was so light-filled, in fact, that I couldn’t look at her for more than a few seconds for fear that my eyes couldn’t take the brightness.

I was shown myself getting into the car that was to pick me up after my flight home, and then shown the driver and me on the highway north of Phoenix whizzing along. The car hit a patch of ice and I saw myself as the car began to slide off the highway and crash and come apart. I saw the windshield coming closer as I was thrown out of the car. There in front of me, seconds before what would have been my death, was my angel, smiling and radiating peace that I could feel deep within. I awoke with a start, shocked by what I had been shown with such razor clarity. I laid in bed for some time thinking about the vision and pondering canceling my trip east. It was very clear in the vision that I was flying west when this event happened, after I had been to the east coast. As I fell back to sleep, the vision came a second time, exactly as it had played out the first time. It was as if God and my angel didn’t want to leave room for denial or any ”it was just a dream” nonsense. It worked. I awoke the second time with a start and simply said, “Thank you God, thanks guys, I get it, I get it.”

After the visions, I was left with a strong inner knowing that as long as I didn’t return on January 4th, I would not die. I went back east for the holidays and after a few days, I checked the weather reports for Arizona and learned that a series of storms was heading toward the state. In fact, the part of Arizona where I live was bracing for severe floods and storms capable of producing dangerously icy conditions. I called the airline and extended my stay in Connecticut for a week, knowing that it was important, if I wanted to live, not to return to Arizona on January 4th.

I began to think of the driver who was to pick me up at the airport on January 4th and drive me home. As he was driving me to the airport in Phoenix at the beginning of my trip, he said that he would be dropping someone off at my airline around the time of my return, so it would be he easy for him to pick me up and  drive me back home. I attempted to tell him about the visions I had but I was unable to get through to him. I learned early in life that when it comes to visions, people are either open or they’re not-—many, especially men, are unreachable until an experience actually happens to them.

As I sat in my mother’s home in Greenwich, Connecticut, I wondered, Should I call the car service to warn them, not caring if I sounded like a goofball? I decided to do that, and though I tried to call the number at least a dozen times over the course of several days, my call would never go through. It felt to me as though Heaven had something up their sleeves and it was not my business to mess with it. As January 4th neared, I sent the driver grace and prayers for his safety and greater good.

angel-protecting-planeI returned home to Arizona completely intact. I had missed what friends and neighbors would eventually call “the 100-year flood.”  A few weeks after my return, I was catching up with a friend who works in law enforcement and she told me that in early January, while I was away, there had been a terrible accident on the highway north of Phoenix. I froze as she said, “Thank God, no one was in the car with the driver. He lived, but there was virtually nothing left of the rest of the car.”

Several weeks after that, in a synchronicity that only the gods could arrange, I ran into the man who would have been my driver that day—the man who survived the crash. He proceeded to tell me that on January 4th, after dropping a woman off at the airport, he had a very close brush with death as he made his way north on highway I-17. His car hit a patch of ice on the highway north of Phoenix and there was a devastating accident. He told me that the police could not believe that he lived. Only the cage around the driver was intact, the rest of the car was tangled, jagged metal. When the police found out that he worked for a car service, they said, “Thank God you didn’t have any passengers. There’s no way they could have survived.” Then he told me something that I found both fascinating and chilling. The accident occurred in the exact spot where he had pulled over years earlier, to pick up a dead owl and give it a respectful burial.

That driver was scheduled for a close brush with death for reasons known only to God and that man’s spiritual support system. This God we experience and speak about knows the tiniest details about our lives. It was known that this brush with death was scheduled and necessary, and that I was “accidentally” scheduled to be in that car. It was somehow necessary in the whole scheme of things that I was not to reach the car service or the driver to give them a heads up. It felt as if God and my angel were saying, via the visions I was sent

We want you to know this is on the horizon. You can come home if you want, but we think you are needed on that bedeviled planet and have more work to do. It’s up to you, you can come home or stay. The choice is yours. We will be watching very closely.

Needless to say, I chose to stay. What I have learned through these two experiences is that we are more closely watched, and watched over, than we could ever imagine. I often wonder, “Just what is this unseen world that exists and cares so much about us within the vastness of time and space?” I am humbled, and I often cry, when I think about how much this mysterious creator and my angelic companion care about me.

I have never taken one walk in the beauty that surrounds me since without thinking about my angel and the day she called my name with such compassion, saving me from breaking my body in two. Her beauty and light is hard to describe and my love for her knows no bounds. She was there, right beside me in the visions of the car crash, letting me know that she would walk with me to what lies beyond the veil of death, where our lives really begin.

The visions themselves came from the One who created all visions, and wired us with intuition and spiritual gifts and skills and the stamina to not care what others think, the One who waits for us to awaken from our human slumber, who longs for us to remember what we already know.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 

 This story was taken from Triumph of the Spirit, Phil Bolsta’s blog.  To learn more about Phil or to read other great stories (including a couple of mine) go to:  http://bolstablog.com

ABOUT PHIL BOLSTA

SiSe_fullcover_final.inddPhil is the author of Sixty Seconds: One Moment Changes Everything, a collection of 45 inspiring, life-changing stories from prominent people he interviewed, including Joan Borysenko, Deepak Chopra, geneticist Dr. Francis Collins, acclaimed sportswriter Frank Deford, Dr. Larry Dossey, Wayne Dyer, Dan Millman, Caroline Myss, Dr. Christiane Northrup, Dr. Dean Ornish, Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen, Dr. Bernie Siegel, James Van Praagh, singer Billy Vera, Doreen Virtue, Neale Donald Walsch, and bassist Victor Wooten.

Here is a three-minute video that introduces you to Phil and his book.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bic0j4QqFbI

Reading this book is like spending a few minutes face to face with each of the contributors and listening to their personal stories. Click here to read unsolicited testimonials from readers. Learn more by visiting the official Sixty Seconds website.

Listening to that still, small voice

10 Apr

One of my favorite blogs is Phil Bolsta’s blog, Triumph of the Spirit.       Check it out at http://bolstablog.wordpress.com

I’ve never copied anyone’s blog entry verbatim … until now.  I read Phil’s post for today after I had written my own blog entry and it tied in so closely with what I was trying to get across, that I decided the best thing to do was to borrow it and reprint it here as well.

Here is Ken Gaub’s phone call – THE BEST STORY EVER!:

Do you believe that God not only loves you, but knows where you are and what you’re doing every minute of the day? I certainly do after an amazing experience I had several years ago.

At the time I was driving on I-75 near Dayton, Ohio, with my wife and children. We turned off the highway for a rest and refreshment stop. My wife, Barbara, and our children went into the restaurant. I suddenly felt the need to stretch my legs, so I waved them off ahead, saying I’d join them later. I bought a soft drink, and as I walked toward a Dairy Queen, feelings of self-pity enshrouded my mind. I loved the Lord and my ministry, but I felt drained, burdened. My cup was empty.

Suddenly, the impatient ringing of a telephone nearby jarred me out of my doldrums. It was coming from a phone booth at a service station on the corner. Wasn’t anyone going to answer the phone?

Noise from the traffic flowing through the busy intersection must have drowned out the sound because the service station attendant continued looking after his customers, oblivious to the ringing.

“Why doesn’t somebody answer that phone?” I muttered. I began reasoning. It may be important. What if it’s an emergency? Curiosity overcame my indifference. I stepped inside the booth and picked up the phone.

phone-booth“Hello,” I said casually and took a big sip of my drink. The operator said: “Long distance call for Ken Gaub.” My eyes widened, and I almost choked on a chunk of ice. Swallowing hard, I said, “You’re crazy!”

Then, realizing I shouldn’t speak to an operator like that, I added, “This can’t be! I was walking down the road, not bothering anyone,and the phone was ringing… “

Is Ken Gaub there?” the operator interrupted, “I have a long distance call for him.” It took a moment to gain control of my babbling, but I finally replied, “Yes, he is here.”

Searching for a possible explanation, I wondered if I could possibly be on Candid Camera! Still shaken, perplexed, I asked, “How in the world did you reach me here? I was walking down the road, the pay phone started ringing, and I just answered it on chance. You can’t mean me.” ”Well,” the operator asked, “Is Mr. Gaub there or isn’t he?”

“Yes, I am Ken Gaub,” I said, finally convinced by the tone of her voice that the call was real. Then I heard another voice say, “Yes, that’s him, operator. That’s Ken Gaub.” I listened dumbfounded to a strange voice identify herself. “I’m Millie from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. You don’t know me, Mr. Gaub, but I’m desperate. Please help me.”

“What can I do for you?” I said. She began weeping. Finally, she regained control and continued. “I was about to commit suicide, had just finished writing a note, when I began to pray and tell God I really didn’t want to do this. Then I suddenly remembered seeing you on television and thought if I could just talk to you, you could help me. I knew that was impossible because I didn’t know how to reach you, I didn’t know anyone who could help me find you. Then some numbers came to my mind, and I scribbled them down.”

At this point she began weeping again, and I prayed silently for wisdom to help her. She continued, “I looked at the numbers and thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I had a miracle from God, and He has given me Ken’s phone number?’ I decided to try calling it. I can’t believe I’m talking to you. “Are you in your office in California?”

I replied, “Lady, I don’t have an office in California. My office is in Yakima, Washington.” A little surprised, she asked, “Oh really, then where are you?” ”Don’t you know?” I responded. “You made the call.” She explained, “But I don’t even know what area I’m calling. I just dialed the number that I had on this paper.” 

“Ma’am, you won’t believe this, but I’m in a phone booth in Dayton, Ohio!” ”Really?” she exclaimed. “Well, what are you doing there?” I kidded her gently, “Well, I’m answering the phone. It was ringing as I walked by, so I answered it.”

Knowing this encounter could only have been arranged by God, I began to counsel the woman. As she told me of her despair and frustration, the presence of the Holy Spirit flooded the phone booth, giving me words of wisdom beyond my ability. In a matter of moments, she prayed the sinner’s prayer and met the One who would lead her out of her situation into a new life. I walked away from that telephone booth with an electrifying sense of our Heavenly Father’s concern for each of His children. 

What were the astronomical odds of this happening? With all the millions of phones and innumerable combinations of numbers, only an all-knowing God could have caused that woman to call that number in that phone booth at that moment in time.

Forgetting my drink and nearly bursting with exhilaration, I headed back to my family, wondering if they would believe my story. Maybe I better not tell this, I thought, but I couldn’t contain it. ”Barb, you won’t believe this! God knows where I am!”

And a Good Time Was Had By “All”

3 Jan

Anna and I returned home today after spending the last 24 hours in downtown Minneapolis.  Yes, yet another mother – daughter bonding adventure!  We seem to have quite a few of them … but they are so much fun and honestly, we are very much alike (sorry Anna but it’s true) and we get along well and we enjoy many of the same things.

We headed up about Noon on Friday, checked into the Westin Hotel, went to Panara Bread for a quick lunch, then spent some quality time in Barnes & Noble.  We headed back to our room to relax on the most comfy bed I’ve ever slept on.

We had a wonderful dinner at Palamino … we got a table right by the window and we had a glass of wine and a relaxing and very delicious dinner.

After that we headed to the Orpheum to see GREASE!  It was equally entertaining.  But I couldn’t stop thinking about John Travolta.  I found it so ironic that here we were at a performance of GREASE after hearing that his son Jett had passed away earlier in the day.  I know all too well those horrible first hours after such a devastating loss and my heart aches for him and his family.

 And as much as we both enjoyed the production, I think we were both thinking about that soft wonderful bed that awaited us back at the hotel.  A bed is a bed, you may say … but this was no ordinary bed.  All the linens and dubay cover were white — white!!!  I’ve never slept in an all white bed before and it was beyond comfortable.  Oh, and did I mention a flat screen TV?

We left our room behind at 10:00 am this morning and drove to Cracker Barrel in Lakeville where we had a fabulous breakfast.  Who doesn’t love Cracker Barrel!! Grits, bisquits and gravy, mmmmm …. it was so good.

We came home and relaxed alittle more and then went to see the movie Seven Pounds with Will Smith.  A great movie … I love Will Smith. 

Having fun and making memories … nothing could be better.

Oh and Liz let us know she was around as well.  Our room number at the hotel was 820.  I know it should have been 920 … but the number 20 is very significant, so when it pops up,  in whatever way, shape, or form, it means something.

While we were at dinner a woman at the next table was celebrating a birthday.  The waiters all serenaded her with a round of Happy Birthday.  Well, guess what?  They sang:  Happy Birthday dear Elizabeth … happy birthday to you!  I just had to smile!  Yes, I get it dear daughter, I do, I’m so happy you joined us.  If that wasn’t enough, I got a new purse for Christmas which I discovered, also at dinner, was made by “Liz&Company.” 

Thanks Girls!  I’m the luckiest mother in the world!