Angels in the Outfield: If You Listen, They Will Come

 

We had a little mystery causing stress at our home over the weekend: the case of the missing baseball glove! Thankfully, we know a group of really great angel detectives.
On Saturday afternoon, our eight-year-old came in after playing catch in the front yard. He hung out for a while inside, then announced he was going back out to catch more pop-ups. But Ryder couldn’t find his glove. For the next few hours, we all took turns looking – all over the house, in the front yard, in the garage. Nothing. He started to freak out, worried he wouldn’t have a glove by tonight, for his first practice of the season.

 

On Sunday morning, he woke up early, still thinking about his glove. Then he woke me up, wanting me to think about it. He whispered, “Mom, will you please ask your angels where my baseball glove is?” “Ask yours,” I mumbled, half-asleep. His response? “I can’t hear them! I need you to do it!”

 

 

I realize this kind of exchange probably sounds totally crazypants to some of you. But I’ve written here before about how much I believe in and talk to angels…and, naturally, that carries over into my family life. I trust there are angels all around us, ready and willing to help – and no task is too silly or small for them. I suspect the big guy upstairs has slightly more important problems to address than a lost baseball glove. But time and time again, we’re totally amazed by what transpires when we ask for a little angelic assistance with everyday issues like this.
Over time, I’ve learned it’s nearly impossible to hear or feel guidance when your stomach is in knots and your mind’s on overdrive, so of course my kid couldn’t hear his angels yesterday. He was thinking so hard about it, he couldn’t feel the magic of divine intervention. So, I agreed to try before rolling out of bed.

 

Now, let me just say that whenever I do this, I feel a little insane…concerned that I’m just imagining things, worried I’ll steer us in the completely wrong direction. So, in between deep breaths, I usually give myself a little pep talk: “Be still. Have faith. Listen closely. You can do this. They can do this.”

 

Within a minute, I saw a very clear picture in my head of Ryder flinging his baseball glove across the yard, not watching where it went. And then I heard the words, “it’s under a bush.” Finally, I received a mental image of the bushes along the side of our garage. That seemed odd, since I couldn’t imagine our kid would throw his glove all the way over there. Plus, Ryder kept insisting that he had brought the glove inside and that it was surely hiding somewhere inside our house.

 

Well, well, well. Would anyone like to guess where my hubby found the missing glove yesterday? Yep. In the bushes. By the side of the garage. I admit it: I did a few fist pumps. And if I’d ever learned how to do cartwheels, I would have done one of those, too. Not only was I thrilled that the glove was found…but also that I’d heard the message accurately and the angels had pulled through for us once again. It never gets old.

 

I share these kinds of stories because a) they’re too fun not to! and b) I want folks to know anyone & everyone can do this. Including YOU. I truly believe there’s an unlimited number of angelic beings out there in the universe, just waiting to be called upon, just waiting to make someone’s day, just waiting to perform mini miracles. And life is so much more fun when there’s magic in the air!

Angels in the Outfield: If You Listen, They Will Come {04.18.11}


We had a little mystery causing stress at our home over the weekend: the case of the missing baseball glove! Thankfully, we know a group of really great angel detectives. 
On Saturday afternoon, our eight-year-old came in after playing catch in the front yard. He hung out for a while inside, then announced he was going back out to catch more pop-ups. But Ryder couldn’t find his glove. For the next few hours, we all took turns looking – all over the house, in the front yard, in the garage. Nothing. He started to freak out, worried he wouldn’t have a glove by tonight, for his first practice of the season.
On Sunday morning, he woke up early, still thinking about his glove. Then he woke me up, wanting me to think about it. He whispered, “Mom, will you please ask your angels where my baseball glove is?” “Ask yours,” I mumbled, half-asleep. His response? “I can’t hear them! I need you to do it!” 
I realize this kind of exchange probably sounds totally crazypants to some of you. But I’ve written here before about how much I believe in and talk to angels…and, naturally, that carries over into my family life. I trust there are angels all around us, ready and willing to help – and no task is too silly or small for them. I suspect the big guy upstairs has slightly more important problems to address than a lost baseball glove. But time and time again, we’re totally amazed by what transpires when we ask for a little angelic assistance with everyday issues like this.
Over time, I’ve learned it’s nearly impossible to hear or feel guidance when your stomach is in knots and your mind’s on overdrive, so of course my kid couldn’t hear his angels yesterday. He was thinking so hard about it, he couldn’t feel the magic of divine intervention. So, I agreed to try before rolling out of bed. 
Now, let me just say that whenever I do this, I feel a little insane…concerned that I’m just imagining things, worried I’ll steer us in the completely wrong direction. So, in between deep breaths, I usually give myself a little pep talk: “Be still. Have faith. Listen closely. You can do this. They can do this.” 
Within a minute, I saw a very clear picture in my head of Ryder flinging his baseball glove across the yard, not watching where it went. And then I heard the words, “it’s under a bush.” Finally, I received a mental image of the bushes along the side of our garage. That seemed odd, since I couldn’t imagine our kid would throw his glove all the way over there. Plus, Ryder kept insisting that he had brought the glove inside and that it was surely hiding somewhere inside our house. 
Well, well, well. Would anyone like to guess where my hubby found the missing glove yesterday? Yep. In the bushes. By the side of the garage. I admit it: I did a few fist pumps. And if I’d ever learned how to do cartwheels, I would have done one of those, too. Not only was I thrilled that the glove was found…but also that I’d heard the message accurately and the angels had pulled through for us once again. It never gets old.
I share these kinds of stories because a) they’re too fun not to! and b) I want folks to know anyone & everyone can do this. Including YOU. I truly believe there’s an unlimited number of angelic beings out there in the universe, just waiting to be called upon, just waiting to make someone’s day, just waiting to perform mini miracles. And life is so much more fun when there’s magic in the air!

Surrounded By Angels ~ 01.30.11

$10.00

$15.00

$55.00

$35.00

$17.00

$100.00

$18.00

$15.00

$105.00

$22.00

$18.00

$125.00

$20.00

$25.00

$15.00

$5.00
Treasury tool is sponsored by Lazzia.com.

Yesterday, I stumbled upon a couple of gorgeous angels on Etsy…and my heart did cartwheels. It made me wonder what other handmade angels were flying around out there. And I’m always fascinated to see how artists portray angels – their expressions, the colors, the lighting, even the shape of their wings. What’s so great about angel art is that no one can ever say it’s wrong. Every angel is perfect!

I created this treasury (a collection of favorites on Etsy) of sweet art that celebrates those ethereal, miraculous beings. If you like what you see, I hope you’ll check out the full treasury on Etsy to support the artists who made them. May your Sunday be absolutely heavenly. :o)

.

Surrounded By Angels ~ 01.30.11

$10.00

$15.00

$55.00

$35.00

$17.00

$100.00

$18.00

$15.00

$105.00

$22.00

$18.00

$125.00

$20.00

$25.00

$15.00

$5.00
Treasury tool is sponsored by Lazzia.com.

Yesterday, I stumbled upon a couple of gorgeous angels on Etsy…and my heart did cartwheels. It made me wonder what other handmade angels were flying around out there. And I’m always fascinated to see how artists portray angels – their expressions, the colors, the lighting, even the shape of their wings. What’s so great about angel art is that no one can ever say it’s wrong. Every angel is perfect!

I created this treasury (a collection of favorites on Etsy) of sweet art that celebrates those ethereal, miraculous beings. If you like what you see, I hope you’ll check out the full treasury on Etsy to support the artists who made them. May your Sunday be absolutely heavenly. :o)

.

My Little Slice of Heaven: Getting Happy With 11

 

Those of you who follow the blog probably know by now that I have a thing for the number 11. It’s not just that I was born on the 11th. I have always felt a spiritual connection to the number. And if I get more than one 11 at a time (like 11:11 on the clock), I literally get goosebumps. Still.

 

And I want to be clear that I don’t sit around waiting for 11:11 to appear. I’m not consciously watching for 11 when I’m out and about. It’s when it takes me by surprise that I feel the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

 

Years ago, I read in Doreen Virtue’s book, Angel Numbers 101, that when the number 11 recurs in your life, it means you’re receiving the following message from angels in your midst: “Stay positive! Your thoughts are materializing rapidly, so you want to ensure positive outcomes by focusing only on the good within yourself, others and this situation.”

 

Even if that sounds like crazy talk to you, it made an impact on me, influencing me to take note of my thoughts whenever the number 11 appears out of the blue for me. It feels, to me, like a reminder that I’m not alone and that my thoughts create my reality.

 

Yesterday morning, I was driving my son home from preschool. We came to a stoplight and, while sitting there, I started singing “If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands!” I turned around to sing directly to him as he giggled and hummed along. When I turned back to check on the traffic light, my eyes were drawn to the odometer: 11110.

 

It felt like angels were tapping me on the shoulder, letting me know all those happy thoughts and giggles and glee were being hand-delivered to the powers that be, reminding me to remain in that state of happiness in order to attract even more.

 

“If you’re happy and you know it,
then you really ought to show it,
if you’re happy and you know it, 
clap your hands (or leave a comment!)!”

My Little Slice of Heaven: Getting Happy With 11 ~ 01.22.11

Those of you who follow the blog probably know by now
that I have a thing for the number 11.
It’s not just that I was born on the 11th. 
I have always felt a spiritual connection to the number.
And if I get more than one 11 at a time (like 11:11 on the clock),
I literally get goosebumps. Still.
And I want to be clear that I don’t sit around waiting for 11:11 to appear.
I’m not consciously watching for 11 when I’m out and about.
It’s when it takes me by surprise that I feel the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Years ago, I read in Doreen Virtue’s book, Angel Numbers 101,
that when the number 11 recurs in your life, 
it means you’re receiving the following message from angels in your midst:
“Stay positive! Your thoughts are materializing rapidly, so you want to ensure positive outcomes
by focusing only on the good within yourself, others and this situation.”
Even if that sounds like crazy talk to you, it made an impact on me,
influencing me to take note of my thoughts
whenever the number 11 appears out of the blue for me.
It feels, to me, like a reminder that I’m not alone and that my thoughts create my reality.
Yesterday morning, I was driving my son home from preschool. 
We came to a stoplight and, while sitting there, I started singing 
“If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands!”

I turned around to sing directly to him as he giggled and hummed along.
When I turned back to check on the traffic light, my eyes were drawn to the odometer:
11110.
It felt like angels were tapping me on the shoulder,
letting me know all those happy thoughts and giggles and glee were being 
hand-delivered to the powers that be,
reminding me to remain in that state of happiness in order to attract even more.

“If you’re happy and you know it,
then you really ought to show it,
if you’re happy and you know it, 
clap your hands (or leave a comment!)!”

Two Little Angels ~ 01.16.11

For the past six weeks, my two-year-old’s favorite toys have been the “guys” from our little wooden nativity scene. It brings him so much joy, I can’t bear to put it away. Just yesterday, our Fisher-Price school bus took Mary, Joseph and some shepherds on a tour of our house!

What melts my heart the most is how much my little guy loves the angel. Nobody gets the star treatment from him like she does! This week, he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her at home while he was at preschool, so he brought her along (that’s her enjoying the ride above) and then she stayed in his tiny backpack all morning. I’m not sure who’s protecting whom, but seeing my little angel with his little angel is so sweet, it brings tears to my eyes.

Two Little Angels ~ 01.16.11

For the past six weeks, my two-year-old’s favorite toys have been the “guys” from our little wooden nativity scene. It brings him so much joy, I can’t bear to put it away. Just yesterday, our Fisher-Price school bus took Mary, Joseph and some shepherds on a tour of our house!

What melts my heart the most is how much my little guy loves the angel. Nobody gets the star treatment from him like she does! This week, he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her at home while he was at preschool, so he brought her along (that’s her enjoying the ride above) and then she stayed in his tiny backpack all morning. I’m not sure who’s protecting whom, but seeing my little angel with his little angel is so sweet, it brings tears to my eyes.

12.07.10: Choosing To Say Goodbye

Sweet Tucker – July 2010
My dad called early yesterday morning
and I could tell right away in his voice that something was wrong.
Tucker, he said, had likely suffered a stroke a couple of hours earlier.
He and my mom would be taking Tuck to the vet, he said, 
“and we think this is goodbye.”
I remember the day we got Tucker;
I was finishing my junior year of high school and my little brother,
who was 10 or 11, desperately wanted a dog.
We had met a cockapoo breeder in a gas station parking lot 
and played with a bunch of puppies, but Tucker stole our hearts right away.
He was meant to be part of our family.
My brother named him Tucker after the book “Tuck Everlasting.”
Such a fitting name, since our Tuck outlasted all predictions and and expectations,
living for nearly 19 years (pretty close to everlasting!).
For the past couple of years, his health rapidly deteriorated;
he lost his vision, his hearing, and even stopped barking.
But he never lost his giant heart, filled to the brim with unconditional love.
On my way to an appointment yesterday with my toddler,
I found myself driving instead to the vet’s office.
Nothing else seemed important in that moment.
I wanted to say goodbye and to be there for my heartbroken parents.
My mom carried Tucker, awake and calm, wrapped in a soft blanket.
His eyes were glassy but I know he knew I was there.
As we waited in the lobby, I rubbed his ears and the top of his nose,
thanking him for being such a good boy,
nearly falling apart when my toddler gave Tucker his “lovey” blanket.
And soon it was time to bid farewell.
I leaned over and kissed the top of his head and whispered, “Bye, Tuck.”
I keep imagining him back in his puppy body, bounding through fields of green and gold,
aware that he fulfilled his mission here on earth
(the same I think one we all have):
to master unconditional love.
Tuck Everlasting. Love Everlasting.

12.07.10: Choosing To Say Goodbye

Sweet Tucker – July 2010
My dad called early yesterday morning
and I could tell right away in his voice that something was wrong.
Tucker, he said, had likely suffered a stroke a couple of hours earlier.
He and my mom would be taking Tuck to the vet, he said, 
“and we think this is goodbye.”
I remember the day we got Tucker;
I was finishing my junior year of high school and my little brother,
who was 10 or 11, desperately wanted a dog.
We had met a cockapoo breeder in a gas station parking lot 
and played with a bunch of puppies, but Tucker stole our hearts right away.
He was meant to be part of our family.
My brother named him Tucker after the book “Tuck Everlasting.”
Such a fitting name, since our Tuck outlasted all predictions and and expectations,
living for nearly 19 years (pretty close to everlasting!).
For the past couple of years, his health rapidly deteriorated;
he lost his vision, his hearing, and even stopped barking.
But he never lost his giant heart, filled to the brim with unconditional love.
On my way to an appointment yesterday with my toddler,
I found myself driving instead to the vet’s office.
Nothing else seemed important in that moment.
I wanted to say goodbye and to be there for my heartbroken parents.
My mom carried Tucker, awake and calm, wrapped in a soft blanket.
His eyes were glassy but I know he knew I was there.
As we waited in the lobby, I rubbed his ears and the top of his nose,
thanking him for being such a good boy,
nearly falling apart when my toddler gave Tucker his “lovey” blanket.
And soon it was time to bid farewell.
I leaned over and kissed the top of his head and whispered, “Bye, Tuck.”
I keep imagining him back in his puppy body, bounding through fields of green and gold,
aware that he fulfilled his mission here on earth
(the same I think one we all have):
to master unconditional love.
Tuck Everlasting. Love Everlasting.