BONUS: Real-Life Messages Pt. 1

Welcome to a bonus episode of MESSENGER! Over the past few weeks, we asked you to send us real-life stories of a message you received from an unexpected source. And you did!  A huge thank you to all who sent in their real-life messages! They are diverse and intriguing—inspiring and mysterious. The timing of the message was important—sometimes it was life-changing. 

Thanks again for listening and many thanks to all of your who shared these amazing messages. We will have more for you in another Bonus Episode later on! And if you haven’t received a message yet. Don’t worry. Wake up. Watch for it. Maybe your message is on the way! 

Brad’s Message:

My sick, frightened partner was struggling with AIDS and his behavior was taking a serious toll on me and our relationship. If I moved out temporarily, could that force some positive change? “You’ve got to take care of yourself,” a friend told me. “If you don’t, you’ll be no good to him in the end. If you’re going to move out, you’d better do it soon, because there will come a time when you can’t leave him.” Like a slap in the face, his words forced a paradigm shift. I realized we didn’t have the luxury of time to work on our relationship. Within a few weeks, I moved out, the hardest decision I’ve ever made. And that was the decision that saved us as a couple.  

Audrey’s Message:

I was looking for a place to live and had passed a particular apartment complex many times. I soon realized it was really the perfect location for me. I went in to talk with the staff about possible openings, but no one was on duty and I couldn’t get in.

I turned to go and a woman in a wheelchair came right up to me. “Can I help you?”  

When I told her I was interested in living there, she said, “Come right on in with me. I’ll show you around and I know two people who will be glad to show you their apartments!”  

I took her welcome as a sign, the message I was looking for—someone to say, “Come in. You’re welcome here.” I called and got on the list but was told the wait time was 6-8 months. Ten days later, I got a call there was an apartment for me. It was the exactly right place for me.  

Marie’s Message:

Struggling with an overwhelming problem, I phoned a dear friend for advice. “Trust,” she said. “You’re going to have to trust that everything will work out.” A week later, another friend had brought several of us gifts—small, hand-made ceramic shapes with messages embossed on them. She’d put them in a bag and we each drew one out without looking. I drew a blue star. “Trust,” my message read.  

Caroline’s Message:

I was driving down a road and saw a church on my right. Towards the curb was one of those signs that would usually say something like “All Are Welcome in the Eyes of the Lord” or “Trust in God but Lock Your Car.” But this one was different. It read “Serve God, Serve Others, and then Serve Yourself.” That phrase struck a chord in my heart in an unexpected way. Although I wouldn’t call myself a religious person, the notion to put others before yourself helped me get out of a place of self-deprecating thoughts.  I realized whether you’re a narcissist or hating on yourself, you are still self-centered. Disrupting this pattern of thinking helped me so much. Thank you, sign!  

Larry’s Message:

Four months after my wife died, I was discussing going to Paris with dear friends. But I felt guilty about traveling without my wife. The next morning when I got out of bed, I stepped on something small and hard. It was a sterling-silver charm from her bracelet. And not just any charm. It was the Eiffel Tower! I believe it was a message from my wife. “Bon Voyage!” 

Genia’s Message:

I was driving on 81-north many years after my father had died. Everything seemed fine, although the traffic was heavy. Suddenly I heard my father’s voice warn, “Get out of here.” Without thinking, I put my foot on the gas and sped up, as fast as I could go. Almost immediately, a huge 18-wheeler came over right where I’d been. I pulled over and cried, “Thank you, Daddy!” His message had saved me. 

Lucinda’s Message:  

Soon after my father’s memorial service, I was walking in my new neighborhood and passed an older gentleman several times before we stopped to speak. He told me he was out on his lunch break. I marveled at his youthful appearance and he laughed and told me he was 81, the same age as my dad. He went on to tell me how wonderful the company developing my neighborhood was. He comforted, reassured and made me feel our decision to buy a home there was a good one. It would work out fine. Though I looked, I never saw him again. Why had he appeared that day? Why had he spoken of the same subject my dad had reassured me about in our last conversation? I think the older gentleman was a messenger.   

Judith’s Message:

On my birthday, I decided to get rid of an antique table. I took it to an auction house but was having a problem getting this table up the steep back stairs by myself. So, I went inside for help. A tall young man in front of me was just about the same size and shape as my dad, whom I missed very much since his death. “You’re 6’ 7, aren’t you?” I asked.  

He nodded. “Yes, exactly.”  

“I always recognize a man who is 6’7 because my dad was 6’7.”   

When it was my turn at the desk to ask for help, I was told I needed to bring the table inside by myself. The tall young man immediately reached over and gently touched my arm, exactly like my dad would when he wanted to say, “Don’t worry, it will turn out fine.”  Without saying a word, I followed the tall young man out into the parking lot where he lifted my table and carried it inside, while I gratefully walked up the stairs behind him. I quickly thanked him and helped the worker list the table. When I turned back around, he was gone.   

I got back in my car and began to laugh. The event was so meaningful because it felt like Dad had come to help me and give me a good laugh at the same time. Dad and I both have a wry sense of humor. The kind, tall, handsome young man in front of me who reminded me so much of my white dad was black. The encounter told me love is eternal and timeless; that race, sex and size are meaningless manifestations of the outer world. And humor is paramount to getting through this life with good mental health! Oh, and the young man’s name was Clayton—just like Dad’s!