Random Acts of "Kindness"

Posts tagged ‘Angels’

IMAGES

I have been told many times that I have talents that I don’t use. No hints have been given as to what those talents are. I just keep muddling through — trying to do the best that I can. I have shared that I try to meditate, but only on a very rare occasion do I get an image or connection. Exactly what is supposed to occur when you meditate? I don’t know. Sometimes I will get an image, sometimes I will see light — blue, yellow, clear. Most of the time I have a blank screen where nothing happens. But sometimes I get a surprise.

I was at Botanical Garden — enjoying the sunshine, the breeze, the day. It was cool — jacket needed, I was glad my hat could be fastened. The daffodils were still in bloom, crab apple trees waiting for warmer weather. The waterfall was running. I stopped to catch my breathe and listen to the running water. Before I sat down, I read a note about the cherry trees that the Japanese government had given to Washington DC and also The Botanic Garden.

Sitting on a bench to rest, I closed my eyes and watched as a gray image dressed in ceremonial garb came towards me. The image stopped within touching distance — too close if it would have been an actual person. I was surprised by the image, and although I tried to discern more about it — the image disappeared before I could tell if it was male or female, and what the garments actually were. I just had the impression they weren’t normal American clothing.

From the waterfall, I wandered to the Japanese Garden. I usually try to stop and watch with closed eyes (meditate?) at one of the secluded areas but the Garden was too busy to try. As is my practice, I wandered over to the island, crossing the bridge through the wooded area, visiting my favorite places, talking to others and taking pictures.

At the end of the wooded area, in the sunshine, protected from the wind, I stopped again on a bench — closing my eyes. I was amazed to watch many gray figures wander past. I don’t remember most of them, but one was a farmer in overalls with a woman walking with him. They were proceeding down the path, heading for the entrance. I watched for a minute, then decided that maybe it was time to leave.

I stopped for a bite to eat at the cafe. Since it was a beautiful day, I wanted to sit outside. An oriental couple were leaving as I looked for an empty table. “Thank You” my response to my world. I saw a young woman looking for a place to sit. Everything was taken, so she sat on the bench by the fence. Since I was alone, I asked her to join me. SURPRISE (not really)– the woman was Japanese, a teacher who taught the Japanese language to her students in a high school.

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I GIVE UP

I thought CROSSING THE BRIDGE was the first thought ramble that I wrote. It was. Then I found this one, the note said it was the second. “My friends” must have been having a VERY GOOD TIME back then. Looking to see if I had copies of the early rambles — this one popped up attached to a few more. So wander with me as I revisit May of 2012 AGAIN.

I’m guessing that “My friends in high places” have known about blogs for a long time. I’ve had the feeling for a while that they thought I should write one. I didn’t agree. I won’t bore you with the reasons.

When “my friends” have a project in mind that I’m not aware of, the topic surfaces often. I might read about it in a magazine or newspaper. I might hear something on the television or radio. I might hear it passing on the street. It might surface in a conversation.

BLOGS: The beginning — Julia and Julia, the book and movie, a blog of cooking with Julia Child not only led to a book but also a movie was the first hint. More recently — Sisters on a television program who were invited to speak at a gathering from someone who had read their blog. Holy Week in April — in a magazine, Weight Watchers CEO wrote a blog for three years. Recently heard on Television, Judge Judy who didn’t bother with a computer but recently started an interactive site because she wanted to be part of this world. My youngest daughter, who is writing a children’s story on the Chicago Fire, started a blog. Reason – help with writing and publishing. I knew I was losing the battle when on I was downtown on a Tuesday and stopped at St. Peter’s because I knew they were doing a Novena to St. Anthony, known for his speaking ability. When I was writing To Pap, With Love, I happened to be downtown on Tuesday’s for nine weeks in a row. Confused, I knew he was instrumental in finding lost objects but I hadn’t lost anything. I learned the reason for my Tuesday’s downtown when I read that many years after his passing, St. Anthony’s tongue was still pink. Yesterday, the final straw, another person on TV, publishing a cookbook after writing a blog.

I don’t know where this blog will lead me, but I have begun.

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STILL CROSSING THE BRIDGE

This appears to be the first thought ramble I published In May, 2012. Silly me, I thought I was celebrating my third year anniversary — Not my fourth. I was curious — what did I write my first ramble about ? I could not find it in my files. Thankfully it was in the archives of Wandering with Spirit. Some things change, but this hasn’t. This hasn’t changed either — “My friends” still edit what I write!

Just have to share, this is as true today as it was four years ago.

I have to admit that I debated for a long time. By debate I mean I voiced many reasons for not writing
another book or a blog. I mentioned that many articles are written about the other side and illustrate “help” from those who have crossed over. I have read about pennies and dimes appearing, white feathers, birds, and other things signifying the presence of a loved one. Angels have appeared to those in need. I am not alone. I saw no reason to write about my experiences.

It is evident that I lost the debate. Let me say that I DID NOT HEAR a rebuttal! But then I NEVER do. I have read that we all have a working intuition but mine doesn’t talk to me. I guess that many years ago I stopped listening.

Instead I receive answers on the wind: spoken word, song, on radio, TV or friends or strangers or in print. If I don’t understand or agree, the message repeats until it is understood. Sometimes I get hit on the head to get my attention.

The happenings over the past week have made me realize how far I have come. My interaction with the other side, although never actually seen or heard has developed to such an extent that my understanding, unless I’m being really stubborn, occurs rather quickly. I have crossed the bridge, gotten a glimpse of the other side and I really don’t want to go back.

My “friends in high places” are having a marvelous time over there. I have learned that with their “help”, I’m often in the right place, at the right time, to help someone or be “helped” in return. Evidently, I’m supposed to share this knowledge with others.

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PERPLEXED

I’ll admit that I was confused. I know my memory is not what it was, especially if I’m on automatic pilot — put stuff away or do things without thinking. But usually I remember the titles of the thought rambles I’ve recently written or those that are scheduled to publish. Since I’m no longer young, I have many friends and acquaintances from many walks of life. Many like myself walk to a different drummer. I don’t remember who told me this but I think it was an actual person in my life, not the newspapers or TV.

I remember being told that my words would reach around the world. At the time I was astounded and I’ll have to admit not necessarily fully believing that announcement. “Sure! Right!” would have been my reply, if not out loud, silently to myself.

It wasn’t long after that announcement that I received a comment from someone in another country about one of my thought rambles. “Oh, you of little faith” — comes to mind. I’ve also been told to believe the promises of Abraham. How Abraham interacts with my life is a question still to be answered. I have to admit that when His name pops up, I pay attention. “I repeatedly fail to trust God’s promise to Abraham” was in my morning reading. ??

So by now you are wondering just what I am rambling about. Sunday morning I received an e-mail that a new person is now following Wandering With Spirit. The e-mail mentioned that she liked STEERING WHEEL. I didn’t remember Steering Wheel being a title that had recently published. The recent titles where about our trip and other recent happenings. I asked my husband if he remembered the title and received a negative response. All during church the question surfaced in my mind. We were visiting our daughter in Central Illinois so I didn’t have access to my files. I will soon celebrate the FOURTH year anniversary of Wandering with Spirit. Since I try to write a thought ramble a week the number is in the hundreds.

Question: Did I publish a title STEERING WHEEL. When? What was it about? Thankfully the data base gave me the information. Steering Wheel was published December 21, 2013. No wonder I didn’t remember. How was this particular thought ramble found? The subject of the ramble provided the answer. God is in charge. With God all things are possible. The ramble was about a tandem bike, God doing the driving, I’m behind, doing my best. The ramble is as relevant then as now — I still put my hands on the wheel, trying to drive, I’m still reminded of WHO is in charge.

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CONNECTIONS

It is hard to explain the interactions between myself and “my friends in high places.” Often it is just a mystery. Many times I’m not even aware of their presence or their interaction but sometimes one and one makes two. Sometimes I’m given a hint, and sometimes, but not often I investigate.

So you have been reading this for over a minute now and I’m sure you are wondering just what in the world am I writing about. The reason for this ramble is that once again I’m amazed. I had a friend request this morning that I accepted. I seldom turn down requests because of the nudges I receive to write this blog. Since I’m not writing on weight loss, making money, raising children, a food blog or any of the other hot topics — I feel that if someone wanders into my life, there is a reason. Just maybe they need to become aware of the “help” they are receiving from the other side.

Now I’ll admit that I received a hint this morning, but I will also admit that I didn’t pay any attention to it. I read in Queen Of Angels: “Bear my son to the world.” This is not the first time my fingers have pointed to this sentence.

When I accepted this person as a friend, a few of her postings appeared on my screen. Now I will also admit that days go by before I read any of the postings on Facebook — or my emails. Why did I read the postings this morning? Your guess is as good as mine. A question popped into my head — who is she? Is there a reason she wanted to be friends? Good questions — curious, I made my way to her page.

Recently there have been a few deaths in my circle of family and friends. My son-in-laws younger brother passed, two people who were on dialyze or who should have been, passed and my husband ‘s sister lost her daughter. The person who wanted to be my friend also recently lost a daughter. This person passed over on my father’s birthday. “Hi Dad!”

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NUDGED

Starting again. This morning I wrote the first paragraph of this thought ramble and saved it. So I thought. Evidently my editors didn’t agree with what I had written because it was ALL GONE.

I get SO MUCH help on a very daily basis, most of which I’ll admit that I don’t recognize. I guess that is why I get in so much trouble. The reason for the title of this ramble is that once again I’m being nudged to lose weight. I have tried numerous times, sometimes with success but sadly life happens and the lost weight comes back with interest. I’ll state that I have NO INTEREST in going on a diet. They are too restrictive and I end up required to give up food that I like: potatoes, corn on the cob, etc.

New plan — hopefully this time I will succeed. The first nudge came when my husband was encouraged to attend the MOVE nutritional group at the local Veterans clinic. I was allowed to join him for support. (I’m chief cook.) That led us into the exercise part of the program. Since then I’ve added evening stretches to my preparation for bed routine.

Second nudge — a couple of the volunteers are using a Fitbit to track their steps and sleep. Listening to their results, I learned that the Fitbit recorded more steps than the pedometer I had been wearing. About that time, the pedometer that I had been wearing stopped working. The Fitbit also records my sleep habits. I’ve learned that when I get less than 6 hours sleep I’m more tired. Recent articles in print and on the news have highlighted lack of sleep as a contributor to weight gain among other issues. I’m trying to increase my sleep hours to seven or even eight. One disadvantage: I wear the Fitbit on my wrist, in order to record steps my arms have to have movement — when shopping, arms on a cart don’t record steps.

Third Nudge: I’ve recently learned that the Fitbit will link to My Fitness Pal. When I tried to link them, My old My Fitness Pal program didn’t have the tools necessary. The My Fitness Pal program on the I Pad didn’t allow us to change participants. Since I don’t give up easily, I took out our lap top where I was successful. Not only was I able to set it up for him with a newer program, but that version allows us to change the path so we both can individually use the same program. Now I’ll admit that being lazy, I haven’t entered my food on My Fitness Pal for months although I do keep a food log — just no calories. Of course I had to add my food for the day to see if it would work.

Linking the two programs, I entered my food and was very surprised to see the calories acquired on Fitbit as well as calories expended. It will be interesting to see how the two programs influence my weight and sleep habits. I asked my husband if he wanted me to link his programs. He admitted that logging his food was more fun than he wanted.

Will I succeed this time. Good question. STAY TUNED!

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TIME PASSES

TIME PASSES

Once again I’m trying to find our house. Time spent at the camper last summer didn’t allow me the time or the energy to keep up with many things. When we came home, I did the necessary things — paid bills, washed clothes, shopped for food. Most of the mail stayed on the table unless it was important. Don’t laugh when I write that I think I left my energy and possibly my mind in the country.

Recently I have taken the time to look at my cookbooks. They have overflowed their shelves and are piled in many places. I’m trying to shift through, eliminate some and make room for the new. I’m reminded at how much has changed. I found two books that where covered in dust — evidently not used in many years. They were both French cooking. I don’t ever remember making a recipe from either — they are going on to new homes. Not that I’m getting rid of my French style cookbooks — I still have two Julia Child, one Jacques Pepin and a huge, table sized book starring both chefs. Going through the books, I’m reminded of many changes in my life. Once upon a time I used to preserve food — I have many books on canning. I don’t know if I will ever use them again but I’m not ready to part with them either.

Weight loss is another subject that is well represented. Then I find all the books that are concerned with sodium and cholesterol. Nutritional information became an issue. I started adding more vegetables to my diet. We purchased a microwave and I had to learn a new style of cooking. More equipment joined our kitchen — a food processor, a wok, a clay pot, a crockpot, an electric grill, and a bread machine. Of course, there are cookbooks for each among my stash.

Recently I’ve been able to part with the electric grill, seldom used — they have grill pans now — much easier to clean. I still have my George Forman grill but seldom use it. Cleaning is the issue. I have sent my wok onto a new home — I use a large fry pan that fits beautifully on our stove without my upsetting its balance.

I have just begun the search through the books. Who knows what else I will find.

Time passes quickly — my father has been gone over twenty years. Today is his birthday. I recently bought a Fitbit Charger Hr. My old pedometer kept falling off. I was afraid I would lose it, then it stopped working. The Fitbit vibrates when I have walked over ten thousand steps. It also tracks the amount of sleep I get. Last night was only 5 hours — no wonder I’m tired.

About 9:30 PM, I glanced at the number of steps I had walked. The total was 9,930. The gauntlet was thrown down. Would I stay at that number of steps or reach 10,000? What do you think? Happy birthday Dad!

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TRAVELING COMPANIONS

I have written that I’m never alone. I don’t see, feel or hear those that are with me. In fact, most of the time I forget that I have companions. Our youngest daughter invited my husband and I to accompany her family on a short trip to Aruba. Our passport was still good, we grateful said yes.

On the trip down, we arrived at the airport three hours in advance only to learn that the ticket agents didn’t start work until after 4:00 AM. Less than two hours before our flight. I wasn’t able to confirm our tickets because we were returning on a different airline. The ticket agent needed to see our passport. After going through security, I managed to lose my boarding pass. A through search left it hidden. Thankfully I was able to get a new one at the gate. My husband had a window seat on the plane, and I had the seat next to him for the short flight to Atlanta.

We had enough time to get lunch before boarding our next plane. On the five hour trip to Aruba, the plane wasn’t packed, we had an empty seat and our granddaughter was able to join us so she could watch the Star Wars movie.

Our grandson was celebrating his birthday — the personnel at the restaurant on site blew up balloons and made a banner for the occasion. Happy birthday and a cake with sparklers highlighted the occasion.

Arriving in Aruba, my son in law asked what fish was local. The response was barracuda. He asked the concierge to inquire with the various restaurants to learn were the fish would be served. Reservations were made at the Aqua Grill, only to learn on arrival that they haven’t had barracuda in over a year. When asked what other local fish was available, we learned that they had Wahoo. It wasn’t on the menu but the chef prepared it for our son-in-law. He graciously shared — it was delicious. At a different restaurant the night we were leaving, I had Wahoo. Sadly, although expensive, it wasn’t as well prepared as the first night.

I won’t bore you with the details of our trip, only the special experiences. A Food Store was located within walking distance. My husband and I took a rolling suitcase and wandered to the store. After getting directions again after going in the wrong direction, we followed a couple down the WET, rocky, narrow path to the store. I got a thorn in my shoe. The next day, my daughter and I visited the store again. This time we found a wider path, still rocky but not wet.

The night before leaving, I got lost returning to our condo, and discovered a chapel on site. It was locked for the evening, but I stopped for a visit before leaving for the airport on Good Friday. A beautiful statue of Our Lady graced table by the window. I don’t know Her title, but she wore a crown. I said a prayer for a safe return trip. We learned that Aruba, a Catholic country shuts down to observe Good Friday. Even the gas stations are closed.

We were advised to allow three hours to clear customs, security and the gate at the airport. We needed every minute plus more. The lines went on forever. I had hurt my little toe and my knee was yelling. Standing in all the lines didn’t help. We had 15 minutes before boarding to a completely packed airplane in order to get something to eat. I didn’t have enough time to buy a bottle of water. My husband and I had seats together but our daughter’s family was scattered throughout the plane. We exchanged our seats with our daughter so she could sit with our granddaughter. I had a middle seat, but arriving at the seat, I was asked if I wouldn’t mind changing for an aisle seat so her husband could sit with her family. Surprise, the aisle seat was located right next to my daughter. Thirsty, knee and toe hurting — I remembered it was Good Friday and offered up the discomfort.

Thankfully we had time to eat and buy water before our connecting flight. Still seated in the middle but thankfully my seat companions were slender.

Easter Sunday — I found $20 laying on the sidewalk when I took Robin for a walk before going to Mass where I learned that a friend had passed on Good Friday. I wasn’t surprised that he had passed, he had health issues for years. I was surprised that I had heard — they had moved out of our neighborhood many years ago.

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Warm Fuzzies

I’m writing this thought ramble on Saint Patrick’s day, the leprechauns were running around this morning. Actually, I think it was my mother saying “hello.” I stopped in the bathroom this morning with my bible in my hand. I planned to use the time well. My bible flew out of my hand, landing upside down, dislodging a little booklet of “Little Francis Love Notes.” I was born on St. Francis’s feast day and the booklet had completely disappeared from my memory. My immediate response was “Hi Mom”, since she has Irish ancestry.

I took Robin for her morning walk. On the way, we met a black Lab puppy. Both the puppy and Robin enjoyed the run. I will admit that I took Robin off the leash so both adults had a chance. The puppy is still too young to be trusted with her freedom.

A little later, I opened Queen Of Angels to “Angels As Confidants And Playmates”. My finger landed on my father’s memorial card. “Hi Dad!” After all, even though my father is Swedish, it is a FAMILY affair.

I don’t often know who is out and about. This morning it was pretty evident. Sadly I didn’t really get a chance to know my mother. I was only four when she passed. I also don’t know if I had any experiences after the fire that would be the cause of some of my talents or abilities. When I was young, it was dangerous for anyone to acknowledge special talents. I have listened to many authors who have explained their challenges in their early years. Thankfully times have changed and special gifts are no longer judged unfairly.

I have been told that I have more gifts that I don’t use. If I do, hopefully I will recognize them eventually. Until then, I’ll just enjoy the special things that occur and share them so that you will know that more things can happen besides pennies and dimes, butterflies and birds. While the world is our oyster, it is also theirs – they have more talents available to them.

Little Francis’s Love Notes ends with a drawing and these words: “I can’t fill God’s shoes, but I can follow His steps. I can handle one step at a time.” I can only add, “I’m trying!”

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INTERACTION

Unless I tell a story, I have trouble explaining the interaction I have with “my friends in high places” since I neither see or hear them. After years of experiences (20 to be exact) I have “learned” that I’m receiving either “help” or direction. Today is the anniversary of my father’s passing. My mother and brother passed when I was four, but my mother was so good at working behind the scenes that I was unaware of her help.

Yesterday I headed for the bank to deposit some checks, transfer some money. On the way I met Henry, a 10 month old Lab. He was extremely excited when he saw me, so much so that his walker asked if we had met before. I didn’t know what to say, finally admitting that I walk to a different drummer, have both two footed and four footed friends in high places — some of them might be with me now. Dogs are more attuned to energy and Henry might have picked up on their presence.

At the bank, I overheard a man telling the clerk that his wife was allergic to penicillin and had trouble with the medication they use for surgery. Since I have the same issues, I took the opportunity to talk with him. During the conversation I learned many things. His father passed over last March. Since they knew he was passing his daughter had the opportunity to mend some fences. His father was very active in their Catholic church, and many more details. I mentioned that if he needed his father’s help, he was there — he just needed to be aware. I mentioned that I walk to a different drummer, often received “help” from the other side and gave some examples. Recently my pedometer stopped working. It clipped onto my pants and had been falling off on a very regular basis for some time. I had been forewarned. I had been given the opportunity to investigate various other means of tracking my steps. I still used my old pedometer. IT STOPPED WORKING! No choice — buy a new pedometer or buy a gadget that I could wear on my wrist.

He seemed skeptical. So I asked him how he could explain my being at the bank at the same time he was, and overhearing his conversation. Maybe it was so I could pass on the message that his father was behind the scenes — “helping.”

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