TRUE STORIES
"We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience." Every day is full of uplifting moments, some big and some small ... but if you're looking, they're all significant. We would love to read your stories, so please send them to sandra@soul-in-control.net. You might just see them here!
GRACE
I was having a "day" ... you know, one of those days you wish you could just start over. I woke up late, hit every red light on the way to work, spilled hot coffee all over myself, wrestled with a slow computer, and rushed to meet deadlines. At one point I was so agitated, I just looked at the sky, threw my arms out, and yelled, "GOD, just give me grace!"
On my way home I decided that a haircut might make me feel better, or at the least I'd get to relax for a bit. So I stopped in at the salon inside our local WalMart. "Can you squeeze in a haircut?" I asked. The girl at the counter said, "Sure. Just give me 5 minutes." She was a pretty young lady, mid twenties, and she was kind and pleasant. We chatted easily, she gave me a great haircut; and before I knew it, I was feeling good again.
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Afterwards I met her at the register to settle up. "Thanks so much." I said. "You just made my day a whole lot better. Next time I come, I'll ask for you again. What's your name?" With a big smile, she replied, "I'm GRACE!"
THE COMCAST LADY
Before I get into this story, I have to tell you that one of the best memories with my dad was sitting on his porch listening to "oldies." He'd always have a list going; and when I showed up, he'd say, "Google this one!" So I'd hook up my little bluetooth speaker and use my phone to play his favorite songs while he commiserated, a Budweiser in one hand and a shot of whiskey in the other. Good times ... you'll see why I mentioned this at the end.
Many of us, at some point in our adult life, have had to make the dreaded "Comcast call" ... you know, the one you put off as long as you can because you know how frustrating it's going to be ... the automated voice, the neverending list of options, the lack of a live agent.
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Well on this particular day, I was missing my dad and feeling low, but I decided to tackle the Comcast issue while I had time. After sitting in the "queue" on hold for a good twenty minutes, I was assisted by a sweet lady named "M." She was cheerful, to the point, and, believe it or not, spoke good English. I gave her all my information and she said, "Please stand by" as she worked to resolve the issue.
"M" never put me on hold, but she did do something very unexpected. In a quiet little voice, as she clicked away at her keyboard, she began singing:
"There was love all around, but I never heard it singing.
No, I never heard it at all till there was you."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lGJxA-Xyiyk
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She sang a few of the verses ... I won't write them all here. But that was one of the songs my dad and I listened to on the porch ... coming right to me, through the Comcast lady. When do you ever get teary over a Comcast call? "Thank you, M!"
HOLY MOMENTS
Until his later years, my dad was an avid reader. He collected novels from a variety of authors including John Grisham, Louis L'Amour, Clive Cussler, and his favorite, Nelson Demille. When I wanted something to read, there was no need for a book store ... my dad had a library in the basement!
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One day I went down to get something new and came across an old paperback titled "Holy Moments" by Matthew Kelly. "Where'd this book come from?" I asked my dad. "Oh, I don't know, must have been your mom's." he said. I thumbed through and it peaked my curiosity because it seemed similar to "pay it forward" and "magnificent obsession." So I took it home figuring I'd read it later.​​
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For two years that book sat on my shelf; and every time I walked by, I would think, "I really should read it," I mean it was less than a hundred pages, but I just didn't make the time ...
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... Till one day I did. I wanted something light to read by the pool, so I grabbed it. It was an easy read, and I finished it in a few hours ... but it really made an impression on me. In a nutshell, it's about creating "holy moments" throughout the day. It's about seeing and seizing those opportunities, often during "undesirable" situations, and turning them around by displaying love through positive thoughts and actions. It's a testament to how those actions can create a"butterfly effect," and I found that I was looking for my own opportunities every day.
Anyway, at the end of the book, the author requests that the reader give the book to three people (they even provide free copies). "Oh boy," I thought. "Now I'm on a mission. I've got to find just the right three people." It was important to me. I wanted to believe that the three people I picked would actually read the book and move it forward.
My first pick was my daughter-in-law. That was a "no-brainer" because she is full of faith and an avid reader. I believed that she would "get it." My second choice, though uncertain, was my own daughter. She doesn't outwardly express too much in the way of faith-based thinking, but she is innately soulful; and I figured that she might read it out of respect for me, and in turn, get a lot out of it. My third pick was undetermined, but I figured it would come.
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I kept the three copies in my car for a while waiting for the right opportunities to hand them out. At the next visit to my daughter-in-law's, I gave her a copy with a lighthearted request that she read it. But I still hadn't decided about my daughter, so I "shot a thought" to God and waited for an answer.​ A few days later, I took the book to her, and here's what happened.
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My daughter has a best friend named Sarah. When I handed a copy of the book to my daughter, she exclaimed, "Oh, my God, mom! Sarah is always saying "that's a holy moment." She would absolutely love this. Can we give her a copy too?"
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Now how's that for a "holy moment" ... while giving out copies of "Holy Moments!" It's like a double dose of Godness. Not only was my daughter the right "second", but she also found me the right "third." To this day I don't know if these three ladies have actually read the book and paid it forward. I won't ask. I have faith that, for each of them, it will happen at the right time, in their own time. Look at me ... it took over two years!
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BIRDS ON A WIRE
In New Hampshire I was in the habit of walking my dog every day, no matter what time of year; and we had a routine "short walk" which went from my house, north up Elm Street, to Fontaine's Tree Farm, and back. About six houses down from mine, on the right side of the street, was a hedge maybe four feet high and thirty feet long. I'd guess about a hundred small birds lived inside that hedge, and it was a hub of activity. You could see them flying in and out all day long, twittering away, and doing whatever birds do. I remember wondering how many nests might be inside that hedge; and just as I'm thinking how safe it must be for them in there, down comes a big, old blue jay, full speed, a regular dive-bomber, charging towards the side of the hedge. "Yikes, I think, even a hedge isn't foolproof."
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Towards the end of the hedge is a telephone pole with a diagonal wire, a brace wire, from midway up the pole to the ground. Well, on this particular day, we made our way down the road like usual and approached the hedge. When we were a couple feet away, a solo bird came flying out of the hedge, looked at me, I swear it looked at me, flew and perched high up on the wire. Then it started singing. Just as I thought, "How cool is that?", another bird came out of the hedge, looked at me, flew and perched on the wire just next to and below the first bird, and started singing. Then a third bird, and a fourth, and more, one right after another, like an assembly line, until the wire was full. Singing. And I looked all around me and thought, "Is anyone else seeing this?" I mean I wanted to yell, "Is anyone else seeing this?" You can't make this stuff up!
FIREFLIES
I lived in a little A-Frame in Acworth, New Hampshire, for a time during my Dark Night. It was an old hunting cabin, very secluded, on 15 acres of heavily wooded land. It came complete with a cozy loft and an old outhouse, and I hooked up running water and a shower. The outhouse was about 50 feet away, which wasn't much fun on a cold morning. And cell service was terrible. I had to go outside, stand in the middle of the driveway, put my flip-phone above my head, pick up the call, and remain in one spot, perfectly still, till the call was over. Also, not fun on rainy nights.
But even during that time, things had a way of happening. One of those rainy nights turned into a real "doozie" of a New England thunderstorm. And I love a good thunderstorm! So I stepped outside to have a smoke and watch the lightning. And what happened next, I will never forget.
We call them "lightning bugs" for a reason, as I learned that night. Every time the lightning flashed, a thousand fireflies sparked in the yard all around me. It was like a symphony of light, each streak of lightning in tandem with the flash of fireflies. And after each flash, the black of night seemed even darker. And I thought, "Is anyone else seeing this?" I mean I wanted to yell, "Is anyone else seeing this?" You can't make this stuff up!
KATYDIDS
Another night at the cabin, as I sat watching television, I could hear a very faint noise, like scratching or something, and it seemed to be coming from inside the walls or from the outside of the house, I couldn't tell which. It kind of creeped me out, but I finished my dinner, did the dishes, and turned off the light to finish my movie. Just then a shadow moved the length of the living room, and something flew right by me, barely missing my nose. "What the heck was that?" I said as I stood up and turned the light back on.
And there right next to the television was, I thought, a grasshopper. I didn't want to kill it, so I opened the door and began to shoo it out with a notebook. As I was doing that, there appeared, out of nowhere, many more, dozens more, of those big green bugs, all around my living room, some flying, some crawling, all of them making that shrill, chirping noise. I didn't know what to do! They were climbing up the outside of the house and coming through cracks around the window screen and maybe even from under the house. I was so grossed out!
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I later learned that they were katydids, indigenous to New England, especially in heavily wooded areas with dense vegetation; and that there had been an explosion in their population that summer. Their chirping sounded just like they were saying "katydid .... katydid." Going into the Fall they were looking for warmer environments, and I guess my little cabin looked pretty inviting. Actually, I think they just wanted to watch t.v. because that's where they kept going.
So, visibly shaken, I did what any tired and bewildered lady, who didn't want to kill anything, would do. I decided that it was late and it was dark, and I would deal with it in the morning. I turned the television off, went upstairs to the loft, got into bed, put my head under the covers, listened to the continuous "katydid ... katydid "... and fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning, I waited for the chirping, but there was only silence. I slowly walked down the stairs and scanned the living room, expecting to see a wave of green, but there was nothing. Not a one. They had gone as fast as they had come. And, thankfully, they never came back. It was a one-night phenomenon, who knows why ... maybe they just wanted to introduce themselves ... but I got to experience a night with the Katydids. You can't make this stuff up!