a crash course with the angels (the day they saved our lives)

a crash course with the angels

I am so glad to be alive. Two weeks ago, the universe had a chance to pluck me and my little guy right off this spinning planet. But instead, we got a crash course in divine intervention. Thank God.

Two Fridays ago, I was on the phone with a friend who’s been slow-dancing with the shadows of trauma and depression. I shared some stories with her that I haven’t talked about in ages. The ones from 11 years ago, following the traumatic birth of my first son, when I was stuck in the tight grip of PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). Back then, the littlest things could trigger vivid visions of my child dying in every gruesome way possible – “like a terrible car crash,” I told my friend. I would try to shake them off, think of something happy…but those visions insisted on playing out from start to finish in my mind. It took a long time – and lots of good help – to win the battle with my wounded mind, to realize the visions weren’t real or threatening, and to understand I had a choice: to give in to the dark shadows in my head or fully trust that the light of God was at work in my life. That healing shift, I told her, literally saved my life.

what do little white feathers symbolize?While my friend and I talked on the phone, Tru was downstairs playing with his five-year-old buddy. The doorbell rang; it was the boy’s mom, arriving to take him home. As the little boy walked to our door to put his shoes on, he stopped and said, “Here, this is for you.” In his small hands, he held a tiny white feather. A TINY WHITE FEATHER! I don’t know where it came from or why he felt like I should have it (instead of his own mama!?), but I received it with a full heart.

White feathers are a sign I’ve encouraged so many of my ecourse students to watch for as evidence angels are around. You would not believe how many white feathers they find once they tap into that awareness! It is awesome. When this little boy handed that feather to me, I felt the power of the timing…of receiving it just after sharing on the phone how protected and safe I now feel. It felt so special, in fact, I took a picture.

It was probably an hour later when the angels swooped in to save our lives.

Tru and I went to our favorite nursery to pick out spring flowers. He asked to go outside and all the way to the back – to a shady area full of hosta plants. It was quiet and peaceful there, with no other customers around. And that’s when it happened.

We both heard a loud boom. I looked up to see a car zooming straight for us; I don’t know where it came from, but it had already hit something (thus the loud boom) and there was no time to move – or even to think of moving. I felt like I was outside of my body for a moment, watching myself watching that car speed toward us. Why was there even a car in the nursery!? It was just like my old PTSD visions, only this time it was real. And then I felt it: a shift in energy, a slowing down of time, a force unseen altering the moment. The out-of-control car would have taken mere seconds to plow into us, but instead it hit a water tank and then the staircase on the side of a nearby garage, tipping on its side just enough to somehow stop abruptly. We stood there in silent shock, until I realized we were okay.

HOLY SHIT. WE WERE OKAY. I felt myself breathe again. 

I ran to the car (it was much closer than it looks in the picture), and found the driver inside holding her head in confusion – but without a scratch on her. Tru startedCaution: #Angel Crossing screaming with worry for me, so I went back to him as staff members ran up to help the driver. Tru and I walked around in a daze after that; he kept saying, “that was a bad accident…” and I would follow it up – in amazement – with, “…and everyone’s okay.” 

The vision of that day has yet to leave my mind. It comes to me almost daily, asking me to re-live it, inviting me to be amazed by it. It is the opposite of my old visions, which left me riddled with fear. This one has no shadows; it’s a miracle in motion and leaves me feeling eternally grateful and cared for.

I don’t believe any of it is a coincidence – the telling of my shadow stories followed by the gift of that feather, followed by the divine roadblocks that kept us safe from that speeding car. And the opportunity to share it all with you is just another step in the divine order of things, I believe. Because if I tell you, and you tell others, somebody along the way is going to feel moved to make more space in her life for angels, for divinity, for magic. There are miracles happening every day. Pass it on…

 

Have Faith, Sweet Boy

 

Last night, Ryder bit into an apple and lost another tooth – his seventh – right before bedtime. He put his baby tooth inside his tiny fabric tooth pouch and stuck it beneath his pillow. The only trouble? He now loves sleeping in our guest room – in a double bed vs. his “little kid” car bed. He was concerned that the Tooth Fairy might not think to look for him there. So, he wrote this note to her and placed it in his real bed. A brilliant move. And, sure enough, she found him in the guest room and left a dollar behind.

 

“I’ve never really seen her,” he told me yesterday. “But I know she’s really real.”

 

He has no proof, of course. No pictures, no sightings. But he has no need for evidence; he has an unshakable faith. One night, I think after he’d lost Tooth #5, the Tooth Fairy didn’t show up. When he came into my room the next morning to tell me, my heart sank. I felt so awful. And I held my breath, waiting for my boy to wonder out loud if she was really real.

 

But he didn’t skip a beat. “Guess she had a really busy night and couldn’t get here,” he said. “I bet she’ll make it tonight.”

 

Of course, I know eventually his faith will be tested to the max. It will break my heart to watch, each and every time. First with Santa and the Tooth Fairy. Someday with angels and spirits and love and God. My hope is that he’ll realize we are are blessed every day by unseen forces. But he will have to discover and decide for himself what he believes. I can’t do it for him; faith cannot be forced. I can only promise that whenever he has questions or worries or revelations to share, I will be there for him…right next door.

Have Faith, Sweet Boy {08.04.11}

Last night, Ryder bit into an apple and lost another tooth – his seventh – right before bedtime. He put his baby tooth inside his tiny fabric tooth pouch and stuck it beneath his pillow. The only trouble? He now loves sleeping in our guest room – in a double bed vs. his “little kid” car bed. He was concerned that the Tooth Fairy might not think to look for him there. So, he wrote this note to her and placed it in his real bed. A brilliant move. And, sure enough, she found him in the guest room and left a dollar behind.
“I’ve never really seen her,” he told me yesterday. “But I know she’s really real.” 
He has no proof, of course. No pictures, no sightings. But he has no need for evidence; he has an unshakable faith. One night, I think after he’d lost Tooth #5, the Tooth Fairy didn’t show up. When he came into my room the next morning to tell me, my heart sank. I felt so awful. And I held my breath, waiting for my boy to wonder out loud if she was really real.  
But he didn’t skip a beat. “Guess she had a really busy night and couldn’t get here,” he said. “I bet she’ll make it tonight.” 
Of course, I know eventually his faith will be tested to the max. It will break my heart to watch, each and every time. First with Santa and the Tooth Fairy. Someday with angels and spirits and love and God. My hope is that he’ll realize we are are blessed every day by unseen forces. But he will have to discover and decide for himself what he believes. I can’t do it for him; faith cannot be forced. I can only promise that whenever he has questions or worries or revelations to share, I will be there for him…right next door. 

Praying for Yes


I love church steeples, especially old weathered ones because I know they’ve seen it all over the years: answered prayers, everyday miracles, hope in crisis, faith in action.

 

I had a conversation today with friends about prayer. There’s an anonymous quote that says, “All prayers are answered if we are willing to admit that sometimes the answer is no.”

 

We all want a quick fix, a lightning bolt from above. And when it doesn’t come, when your prayer goes seemingly unanswered, it’s hard to believe in good or God. And no matter how much you believe things happen for a reason, as I do, it’s nearly impossible to accept when you’re drenched in grief.

 

So I pray tonight for those who are hurting to be given serenity and strength as they scrape the bottom of the faith barrel, grieving over lost dreams, lost loved ones, lost souls.

 

I can only hope the answer to this prayer is yes.