It has been over a year since I’ve truly written anything spiritually inspirational. Now, God has moved me to grab my pen (metaphorically speaking) and write with wild abandon… typing as fast as I can.
There is so much stress and strife in our world. Yes, there has historically always been unrest since the beginning of time, but let’s face it… things appear to be elevating at a rapid pace all across the globe. And, please understand… this is not a politically driven post in any shape or form and it also isn’t a lecture or rant; instead, I feel God propelling me forward.
Where ever you look, people are at odds: pro-life vs. pro-choice, liberal vs. conservative, Christian vs. Muslim, democracy vs. communism, man vs. woman, black vs. white, America vs. Korea (or is it Russia, or maybe China, or well… ??), LGBTQ vs. heterosexual, Antifa vs White Nationalists, Republicans vs Democrats, believers vs. non-believers, terrorists vs. pretty much everyone else, employed vs. homeless, rich vs. poor, and the list goes on and on. It seems never ending.
Surprisingly, even believer vs. believer can be added to this list, as I recently found myself smack-dab in the middle of an argument online with a fellow Christ believer. It appears her beliefs were stronger and better than mine and my beliefs were wrong, so she had to correct me!? I have no idea how it all started or where I thought the comments were going, so I pulled back and wished this stranger well even though she continued to preach to the emptiness that my absence on the post left behind. Sigh.
In the aftermath, simple questions clouded my mind: Why must we pick a side? Or for that matter, why must we assign labels? Why must one person and/or her belief system be seemingly better than another? Aren’t we all God’s children? Why must we, as a human race, be at odds? Perhaps we can all agree… We’ve lost our way. I feel we are now wandering this world, lost, and actively grabbing onto anything that brings comfort and belonging… maybe a label or “picking a side” provides that false sense of comfort? Honestly, I’m not sure.
Today, we see the vast devastation in Houston and nearby surrounding areas unfolding in front of our eyes on our T.V. and computer screens. First hand, we witness the heart wrenching despair of those displaced from their homes or even worse those trapped by flood waters in their homes or automobiles. Sadly, many have died from Hurricane Harvey and the death toll continues to steadily rise in parallel with the flood waters. When civilians rush to a city far from their own, to lend a helping hand to strangers, and unhitch their private boats to save anyone in their path… this causes my heart to rise with hope again.
In my life, having just turned 44 years old, I certainly feel I’ve lost my way. For years, I’ve written of my experiences with God; sharing stories and spiritual accounts of hearing and sensing Him in my life and my strong connection with His angels (seeing, hearing, and sensing them as well). While texting with my dear friend Sonia this morning, I realized I rarely hear God or his Angels anymore. On rare occasion, I will hear something from God or His angels and I still see signs that they are always with me, so this fact brings me comfort. Yet, I’m saddened as I wonder why I’ve lost my “gifts” that I’ve so proudly worn like a golden shield of armor?!
During my fertility and subsequent pregnancy, my gifts were heightened greatly. I’ve written many accounts of this golden period of my life. During my pregnancy, I heard my daughter’s voice, I had visions or dreams of her, and saw her face for exactly the way she looks today (now fast approaching her third birthday). While she was growing inside me, I had this immense feeling that she would be incredibly more gifted than me. Perhaps, I actually passed along my gifts to her and that is why they have apparently faded?
Maybe my gifts have disappeared because I’m so all-consumed with being her mother; single-handedly, trying to raise a kindhearted, well-mannered, well-adjusted, adorable human being that I’ve inadvertently left no room for God and His angels to reside? Or maybe, it isn’t about me at all. Maybe, just maybe, they are appearing… in yet a different form… in a way very foreign to me. Now, I think they are appearing in HER… in my daughter.
Have you ever felt so in tune with someone that he/she can actually read your mind? I feel that connection with my daughter. Yet, I stop myself to think… “This is SO much greater than just me and her!” I feel our connection is divine providence. God is speaking to me… through HER. This has played out many times over her short little time so far on this earthly plane.
Just recently, as we were strolling out of the grocery store with all of our goodies, I noticed a somewhat disheveled man sitting half in and half out of his large, rather new pick-up truck. It was an unseasonably cool August afternoon, so I was surprised he had his door open in such a way. It actually appeared to me as if he was perched and ready to leap. As I hurried to put my daughter in her car seat, which happened to be on the same side as the man and his truck, only a cart corral stood between our car and this man.
My senses were heightened as I’ve read articles about women and children who have been attacked, robbed, abducted, or worse while shopping and it usually happens in the parking lot. I kept looking over my shoulder and making eye contact as a way to let this man know, “I see you. I know you are there. I am NOT unsuspecting, and I am NOT an easy target.” And all the while, I kept saying prayers silently in my mind and asking God and His angels to step in to provide protection for me and my daughter.
Every time I looked back, the man was still looking straight at us. I kept talking to my daughter and seemingly she had no idea what was happening. As I was securing her in her seat, she asked for her doll Lucy and her “ABCs” which is what she affectionately calls her tiny leap frog laptop. It plays songs and is helping her fine-tune her ABCs – which she loves.
Then all of a sudden she says quite sternly, “I’m safe, Mommy!” I looked at her with a quizzical look and asked, “You are safe?” and she looked at me with a peaceful smile and quietly confirmed, “Yeah, I am safe!!” I let out an audible sigh of relief. God was talking to me…
“Yes, baby. You are INDEED safe, Honey!” We exchanged smiles and I kissed her tiny cheek just before I shut her door to walk to the driver’s side. I said a prayer of praise and gratitude to the Lord as we left the parking lot; for in that moment, I knew He was there.
The first time I saw my daughter on the ultrasound screen, I giggled and told the nurse, “She looks like a tiny chicken nugget!!” ha! Even though she was only eight or so weeks old at the time, I knew in my heart my nugget was a girl. Once she was born, my Daddy kept this nickname for her and always called her his little nugget. It was adorable!! I’ve since joked that I should really call her my golden nugget due to the fertility cost to conceive her.
Please know, I’m only kidding around when I call her that because any amount of money spent is well worth having my precious girl in this world. For now, I realize my golden armor, mentioned earlier, was simply fool’s gold. My daughter is indeed my little golden nugget; for through her, God will light my way as long as I stay steadfast in opening my heart, mind, and soul to listen… to her.
© Renae Rossman and Candy Coated Reality™