I live in a suburb of New Orleans and have been writing here off and on for 10 years. I have been married 53 years to the same crazy guy.
Message from a Redbird
Knowing Someone Watches
I think the reason I have always asked for signs from Spirit is that it is so important to me to know that a holy being is aware of my struggles. It makes all the difference in the world to me. If it weren't for that fact, that knowing, I might have given up at certain times.
Fifteen or 20 years ago, my husband and I still owned a camp in Kentwood, Louisiana. It was 32 acres divided fairly equally between meadows and wooded areas with a creek that had mostly dried up.
My husband was going to a Kiwanis function and I just simply wasn't in the mood to be sociable. I opted to stay at the camp alone. The camp was fairly isolated. We had one neighbor about a quarter mile away, but he paid no attention to our comings and goings on the weekends. (We eventually sold our camp to him.)
That particular weekend, I was in a slump, going through some hard times, plagued with depression and sadness. I've had times like that all my life. Fortunately, they always eventually go away. I knew this one would too. Joe left for his drive to Vicksburg and I settled into our travel trailer. I slept okay, not concerned that I was alone in the middle of the woods at all. The next morning, I was in one of those moods where I didn't have the get up and go to get out of bed. I just kept lying there. I remember specifically as I was making coffee in our little kitchen asking for a sign that someone watches over me, that someone cares about my misery, just mostly a sign that someone or something knows what I'm experiencing. I also distinctly remember asking that the sign be so dramatic that I would know it was from another dimension. As I finished these thoughts, I walked back to the bed to rest while the coffee brewed. As I walked past the window over the little table, a red bird flung itself at the window so hard and made such a noise that I screamed. It was dramatic and loud and scary and exactly what I needed. It was one of those times you just know: That came from someone/something divine. I went outside to check if it killed the bird because it was such a loud thump. No bird on the ground. It survived. It shocked me out of my lethargy and by the time Joe came home, I was fine. It is something I have always done, asked for signs.
My Ring Was There All Along
Some of you may have read an article I wrote about losing my engagement ring. It was a small solitaire, nothing fancy, just a pretty ring with a world of meaning. One day I looked down and the ring was there but the diamond was missing. Well, we tore the house apart. Joe told me a thousand times he would buy me another diamond but I wanted the one he gave me in 1965 on Christmas day. We looked for the diamond on and off for a week or so. I vacuumed everything as thoroughly as I knew how, then examined the contents of the vacuum bag. Nothing. I finally gave up and realized I'd likely live out my life without my ring. I began to wear one Joe's dad had given me that had belonged to his mother and life went on. Two years later, I was having a bad day, just down, down, down. Not a situational down, just woke up that way. As usual on days like this, I asked for a sign from the Universe that something/someone was there, that I wasn't alone in this most wonderful but occasionally dark journey called life.
I decided to thoroughly clean the kitchen. It had needed doing for months, but today seemed a good day, something to give me focus and occupy my mind. It all went well and coffee helped. After an hour of scrubbing and mopping and throwing away food that looked like it belonged in a science lab, I started on the junk drawer, always my most unfavorite task because I never knew where to put anything that had landed there. As I was removing things, I saw a glimmer in the bottom of the drawer. And yes, you are correct, it was my diamond. I remember crying and laughing at the same time and never being so sure that something was more than a coincidence. Joe had a more pragmatic view: You scraped it off digging something out of the junk drawer. I'm sure he's right but there's so much more involved than than. I encourage anyone reading this to ask for signs. They mean nothing unless they are asked for. Then you know......
My Living Sign
A Living Sign from the Universe
A few years ago, after I had sold my business and settled in to a different sort of life, I woke in a funk one day. It's difficult to adjust to having no particular schedule except one that you make yourself after years of having to be someone almost every hour of the day, including a night school schedule. It left me feel depressed and sad at times for the first year or two. This particular time, I was sitting on the couch drinking coffee, trying to be upbeat and failing miserably. I had told my husband Joe that I felt lethargic and yukky. Mostly I am happy, positive and accept life as it is with a good attitude, but now and then some chemical in my brain just doesn't work correctly, and I'm not right. Of course, part of my routine that morning in fighting off fatigue and sadness was to ask for a sign. It's important, at least for me, to know that there is more to life than skin and bone, that there is, indeed, another side of life where the answers to all our questions reside and I wanted a sign from that dimension.
Joe called me to the backdoor, saying "There's something here you need to see." There sitting in front of the door was a beautiful terrapin, something we had never seen in our yard. It walked as close as it could get to the patio without getting on the concrete, stopped and looked at me. The message I got was, "Well, here I am!" I remember chill bumps coming on my arms and I stood there and watched the little character until it finally turned away and waddled off toward the storeroom. Coincidence? I don't think so. My mood was changed completely. The terrapin visited me once more, then we never saw it again. Joe and I still talk about him. The squirrels and blue jays have taken over the yard, but I wonder if the terrapin still visits.
That was my last real "sign." If you're wondering, yes, I still ask for them. They haven't come in years, I think because I no longer truly need them. I have days when I'm a little off, but nothing to warrant anything so dramatic. When we are truly desperate and lost, I believe those emotions cross some line and awake some consciousness that responds to our needs. I'm grateful that my sadness these days is infrequent and not "bad" enough to qualify for a sign!
I know some of my readers may still be where I was when the terrapin came. Ask for a sign. This is not "all there is." There are answers. Ask for them. "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you."