He had been diagnosed with Crohn’s disease, a form of inflammatory bowel disease (IBD). It usually affects the intestines, but may occur anywhere from the mouth to the end of the rectum (anus).

He was scheduled for surgery, but had been praying for a healing.

He knew healings happen. He had been part of many of them for others, but he was not sure he would have one himself. The morning of surgery, he had the message from “The Father” to have them take another CT scan.

After much discussion, the doctor reluctantly agreed to do the scan.

The result?

No Crohn’s disease!

Although the house was way too big for her now, following his transition she lived there alone because his hands had done the wood-working and she hated the thought of leaving there. Memories of him were everywhere in that house, and when it eventually came time for her to leave it, he was still there helping her.

One day, the bundle she sent down the laundry chute did not arrive as expected. She could not reach it from above, or from below. Just as she was contemplating the predicament, his voice came through as clear as a bell: “Wrap two of my heaviest books up in a large towel, and send that down the chute.”

Following his advice, the books easily pushed the bundle through the chute. She smiled to herself as she knew she was now and always supported by her beloved husband!

The year before she died, we had gone to the pumpkin farm together. My heart was not in going without her, but I knew she would want me to go, so I went. I sat down at the picnic table where I had sat with her the previous year. As I was crying and reflecting on her, I looked down and these glasses were on the bench seat of the picnic table. I did not place the leaves or touch the glasses. I took a picture of them exactly as I found them.

My mother wore glasses just like these for years. I have hundreds of photos of her in them. My mom was telling me she was with me always!

We need to have a sense of humor as we discover the amazing ways intuition, guidance, and insight (probably these are all names for the same energy of intelligence and wisdom) work. You can see that very clearly in this sacred story:

As I was drifting off to sleep one night, the name “Archimedes” popped into my head. I heard it so distinctly, I actually sat up and said the word right out loud. My husband, commented that someone more talented than I must have ducked for the message to come to me because I am horrible at math and science.

The following day, I was on break chatting with a coworker who was dusting the desks. As we were talking he picked up one of the computer consoles. Lo and behold, underneath it was a small tag—similar to a Christmas gift tag. Written on the tag, in lovely cursive: the name “Archimedes” and nothing more.

My coworker seemed to take it as a sign that I was a “witch.” Hope not! Albeit one of my great, great grands from a long way back—Patience Disbrow—was tried as a witch and found guilty. She was pardoned by the Connecticut governor. Hence, I am alive to tell the tale!

And so are my children and grandchildren. But cross me and I will put a spell on you! LOL!

Electronic devices seem to be super sensitive to energy. Most of these events go unexplained, such as is the case with this cell phone call!

I was in my office working on the computer when my cell phone rang. When I looked, the incoming call was coming from me!

Often, we do not recognize the significance of the “messages” we are receiving until after-the-fact. That was the case in this sacred story:

I was brushing my teeth on my way to take a class at the local community college. The name “Milnickel” popped into my head. I had no idea why, or what the significance was. I had never heard the name before.

On my way to class, my car broke down on the expressway. Never patient enough to wait for help to come, and long before everyone carried cell phones, I walked up to the house atop the hill where my car came to a stop.

A man was in the driveway. He was a house painter. I told him my dilemma, and asked him if I could use the phone. He said he was not the homeowner, but that a very nice lady lives there.

“Mrs. Milnickel will let you use her phone to call for a tow truck.”

And so, within fifteen minutes after that name popped into my head, I was standing in the woman’s kitchen using her telephone!

His mother-in-law and father-in-law were telling him and his wife about their recent loss of a friend.

If he had thought about it for even a moment, it was a thought he would have probably kept to himself, but he was not thinking about it.

“Why did he commit suicide?” popped out of his mouth.

His question was met with shocked stares. The friend’s death had been a suicide.

Her meditation group was reading from Pay Attention, for Goodness’ Sake: The Buddhist Path of Kindness, by Sylvia Boorstein. Sylvia’s detailed description of doing “metta” following the formal meditation sitting was powerful. One member of the group said, “Let’s not talk about it, let’s do it!”

You simply say the name of a person who is on your heart and mind, explaining some of the circumstances while holding the Buddhist intention: May all beings come to the end of suffering.

Someone began. Others added in. She shared about her brother-in-law, experiencing leukemia. So much pain and suffering in the world. She shared about her former counselor, having just been placed on hospice care.

The room grew silent, then the bell rang once inviting the group into the second sitting of the evening.

In the tradition of her practice, you focus on your breath and when a thought comes you simply recognize it as thinking. If something other than the breath catches the attention, that then becomes the object of focus.

The words inside her head began….
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

The words continued….
He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters.

She knew she did not know these verses, although she recognized them as the 23rd Psalm.

He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.

“It is my soul being restored,” she realized as she listened.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil;
for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

She was being comforted.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

The bell rang three times signaling the end of the formal sitting.

As announcements and sharing began, she tried to say the words again silently to herself. She knew the truth. She did not know those verses…. She had not been reciting that eternal promise, she had been hearing it whispered to her aching heart at a time she really needed it.

She was born with a congenital heart defect—they were soon to realize it was the same one that had claimed the life of her older brother. Her heart muscle was so undeveloped it took more energy for her to suck than she gained from eating, so she was failing to thrive.

The medical staff did what they could. They put her on a heart transplant list. But, thankfully, donor infant hearts are not often available.

A feeding tube was placed in her nose, so her mom and dad could give her formula.

Prayers for healing began. The list of volunteers took turns lifting up their prayers around the clock.

Days….
Weeks….
Months….
She began to gain weight.
Still no donor heart.

She grew strong enough for the feeding tube to come out.
Still no donor heart.

She began to crawl.
Still no donor heart.

She began to walk.
Her heart muscle was getting stronger!

She began to walk.
Her name came off the transplant list.

She went to school. She grew into a lovely young woman.

“Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you.” – Saint Augustine

One morning as I was driving to meet a friend to walk at the lake, I was listening to an audio about the idea of “ask and you shall receive” and how our pure desires do not sit in conflict to another’s. The story was about a young boy who asked his mother for a toy gun. Not wanting him to have toys of violence, her answer was no. The little boy asked his grandmother to get him a toy gun, but she wisely told him she could not go against his mother’s wishes.

Later that day, as they were out in the woods, jumping in a pile of autumn leaves, the little boy kicked a toy gun! His face said it all, and his grandmother told him since the universe had given it to him, he could keep it.

As I was telling my friend about the story, we came out into the opening, and there on the path was this toy gun!

We told a mutual friend what had happened, and the next day I got a message from her that she parked at work, opened her car door, and right there on the pavement was this one!