Pennies from Heaven

When my mother was a small child, she always carried coins in her black-and-white saddle shoes for safekeeping.   It became a habit that she continued into her adulthood.  My mother always placed pennies in her shoes before putting them on her feet.  “It brings me good luck,” she would say whenever I questioned her about it.

I never could figure out how Mom’s ritual brought her good fortune, especially when her old shoes had numerous holes.  But my mother truly believed in her superstition and, I guess, there were a few times when it was a true blessing.  When I was a child, I remember watching my mother scrape spare change together from the bottom of her purse to pay for the weekly groceries.  If she was still a few cents short, Mom, standing right there in the check-out line, would step out of her shoes and pick out the coins that she had placed there for providence.  She would hand the coins to the cashier, and then, with her head held high, she would step back into her shoes, gather together her groceries and children and proudly walk out of the store.  Yeah, there were times when those pennies brought her real luck and good fortune.

Though I never put pennies in my shoes, there was another coin tradition Mom taught me that I completely embraced.  Mom believed in “pennies from heaven.”  Every time she randomly found a coin on the ground, Mom would tell me that an angel was watching over her.  Whenever angels are near they leave gifts of coins and feathers.  I have always had a great belief in angels and continually looked for spare change whenever I needed a boost of faith.  I rarely found the reassurance I was looking for.

Well, that was until my mother passed away on March 16 of 2010.  After that day, coins suddenly seemed to appear around me at the most random times and in the most unusual places.  From the very first penny I found after Mom passed, I truly believed it was a sign from heaven that she was still looking out for me.  And whenever I found more valuable coins I felt doubly blessed.  Whenever I find pennies, I always think of Mom and her ritual even though I keep the coins I find in a special glass vase and never in my sneakers.

For some reason, I’m not sure why, I suddenly thought of Mom and the spare change she kept in her shoes while I was at work on Easter Sunday.  I didn’t consciously concentrate on the memory.  It just came and went as a passing thought.

But that afternoon, my right shoes suddenly felt a little funny.  I took a few steps and felt a strange pressure at the bottom of my right toe.  I shook my foot trying to shake away the feeling.  It didn’t help.  Every step I took caused a small achy pressure into my toes.  I tried hard to ignore it.  I was at work and didn’t want to be bothered by something so trivial.  I knew there was something in my shoe but didn’t know what it was.  Finally, when the pressure was too annoying, I took off my right shoe, held it up over my left hand, and shook my sneaker.  To my surprise, a nickel fell out of my shoe and came to rest  in the center of my palm.

I stared at the coin in surprise.  I don’t know how the nickel suddenly got into my shoe that Sunday afternoon.  What an amazing Easter gift.  I whispered a quiet thank you to my mom and my many angels for always looking out for me.  Even though I had to work on this holiday, it was, without a doubt, the best, most blessed Easter I had  ever had.

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Thunderstorms and Fridays

Today, I was wide awake and feeling happy and peaceful as I drove to work.  It didn’t matter that it was 3:00 am.  I could feel my heart beating rhythmically and energy was buzzing through my body making me feel very alive and aware.  Though I always enjoy driving in the early morning darkness, I’m normally not this awake and alert. But today…today was very different.

I drove down Highway 435 with a smile on my face as I sang along to the songs that were streaming out of my stereo.  About twenty minutes later, I turned into the lot and parked the car.  I didn’t get out of my car immediately.  I sat in silence for a few minutes as I contemplated the day ahead of me.  Suddenly, I heard a beating and pounding cadence against my car.  Rain!  I sighed excitedly.  I love rain, especially when it is accompanied by thunder and lightning.  Now, I was happy to just sit still and listen to the rain beating against the roof and windshield of the car as a thunderstorm began to brew all around me.  I have never been afraid of thunderstorms.  I love hearing the thunder clattering around me.  The sizzle of lightning crackling across the sky always electrifies me.  Thunderstorms always make me feel that there is something more, that there is something bigger than what we are in this world.  I like to be reminded that there is a powerful universe all around us that supercharges our very beings and creates our destinies.  Thunderstorms also remind us that we are stronger and more powerful than we have ever imagined.  It’s empowering to know that we can weather the storms.

This morning, while I sat in quiet contemplation listening to the rain, I remember something that my mother had told me when I was about five-years-old.  When I was a child, my mother told me that whenever a storm occurred on Good Friday, it was God crying out and raging over the death of his son, Jesus Christ, who had been crucified on that day.  And it seems, ever since my mother told me this, there has been a storm on every Good Friday I have spent in my hometown of Kansas City, Kansas.  I used to love lying on the floor of our family home, staring out the large picture window in the front room as a powerful storm brewed outside on Good Friday.   I love feeling, with every slap of thunder and crack of lightning, that God is all around me.  I love to think that I can witness the complex emotions of an almighty God in every thunderstorm on a Good Friday.    I am fascinated that God can be so hurt and so angry over a moment that held such great meaning for him.  If God could rage over the memory of his son’s death, I surmise, then how incredibly great his passion must be.  I love knowing a God that is emotional and impassioned.  I love knowing a God that can care so deeply about his people that he can display all levels of emotion.

So ever since my childhood, I anxiously look forward to thunderstorms on Good Friday.  And so, today, Good Friday, April 14, 2017, I was sitting in my car in the middle of a thunderous downpour.  As the storm raged all around me, I said several words of gratitude to God and Jesus Christ for their many sacrifices to save their people.

Finally, my prayer completed, I opened my car door.  It was going to be a long run to the building because I had to park at the back of the lot.  I took a deep breath and got out of the car.  I took my first  few steps forward and suddenly  I felt overwhelmed.  The rain bouncing onto the earth released an amazing aroma that made my heart swell.  For me, the smell of rain on earth is completely intoxicating.

I didn’t want to run now.  I wanted to walk slowly in the rain and breathe in the earth.  I wanted to glory in the feel of the rain against my skin and enjoy the wonders of the universe and the dramatic emotions of a passionate God.

Finally, I walked into building and was relieved to realize that I could still hear the rain against the roof as I went about my work.  I worked hard throughout the day, but I did stop every few minutes to listen to the rain and pray as I tried to stay in a state of grace during a workday that can be usually be frustrating.  To keep myself in a sacred space, every now and then, I would wonder over to the back doors and stare outside to watch the rain fall over the ground.  On this holy day, the day of Christ’s crucifixion, the thunder, lightning, and rain kept me in a pure state of being.  Eventually, I got caught up in my work and had to stop wandering off.  But I still remained at peace

Finally, my workday ended.  I walked outside…and immediately smiled.  The afternoon was flooded with bright glorious sunshine.  Brilliant golden rays sparked out between the clouds and warmed my skin.  The rays shined down on me as if I had been kissed by angels.  And I knew that God loved the world so immensely he had given his only son, Jesus Christ, to die for our sins.  And now, the glorious sunshine let me know that he had forgiven his people.  God above all knows unconditional love.  No matter what we do he will never forsake us.  The occasion reminded me of God’s great passion and love for his people.  God rages and then forgives…and always, above all, he forever loves.  This is what the entire season of Easter is all about.   Sacrifice, rain, fear, storms, guilt, lightning, sunshine, love, warmth, peace…forgiveness.  God’s emotions are on display.  He is one of us—dramatic and emotional and passionate.  But so far above us with his kindness, forgiveness, and compassion.  And above all, God’s storms continually demonstrate his immense love for his people even though we are far from perfect.  We are forever in his grace.

This is why I love thunderstorms…especially on Good Friday.

 

 

Easter 2015

I usually spend holidays alone, and today, April 5, 2015, Easter, was no exception.   I don’t really plan to keep my holidays to myself.  I would have loved to be with a group of children hunting for Easter eggs.  I would have loved to dress up in bright new Easter clothes in colors that glorified the coming of spring.  I would have loved to sit down at a table with my loved ones praying and giving thanks before joining in on a feast of good food, conversation, and laughter.

But that isn’t my life right now.  I am single with no children.  My whole family is back in Kansas while I am in California.  And even though I have caring friends, they have their own families and traditions to enjoy today.

So, I just spent this holy day like any other day.  I woke up around 8:30 am and enjoyed a creamy smooth cup of coffee.  When I have to go to work, I usually don’t get a chance to relax and daydream over coffee.  I sipped the hot drink and thanked God for my peaceful morning.  I listened to gospel music and sang along in joyous celebration.  I spent the majority of the day working on my new novel.  I felt so surprisingly inspired today that the words just poured out of me.  For some reason, on holidays, every little thing seems so precious to me even if I have done it a million times before.   I thought about my life and my lonely holiday and for some reason instead of feeling depressed, this story kept ran through my head.

About two years ago, I decided I needed to get away for a weekend.  I drove the four hours to Vegas and spent the evening walking the strip, taking pictures, and seeing the Shaina Twain concert.  Even though, I was having a great time, I was feeling restless as I walked back to the Flamingo Hotel.  I went to my room feeling sad, nauseous, lonely, and nervous.  I turned on the TV but couldn’t drown out the sound of loud, sad crying.  Oh, the sobs weren’t mine.  I could hear a baby crying in the room next door.  The cries just made me feel worse.  It’s hard to hear a baby cry in public sometimes and know I can do nothing about it.  My instinct is to love and comfort the baby, but I certainly couldn’t do that now.

So I finally laid down in bed, listened to the baby cry, and prayed for peace and comfort for both of us.  Finally, the baby and I both quieted down and I fell into a deep sleep.  I slept for a few hours when suddenly I came shooting awake.  I could hear someone moving around in my room!  I was a little unnerved about this.  I had checked to make sure the entrance and balcony doors were both locked before I had went to bed.   I caught my breath and tried not to make any noise as I heard the footsteps of someone walking around my room.  I laid perfectly still as I listened to the sound of someone fumbling in my opened suitcase.   I fought back a scream as I felt the bed suddenly rock back and forth as if someone had knocked into the side of it.  It was only when I felt the mattress sag down on the opposite side from where I was that I came shooting straight up in the bed.  It felt as if someone had actually sat down on the mattress.  I sat up, turned to look to my right…

…and there sitting on the side of the bed was an angel.  I stared in shock.  The angel’s back was to me so I could see her wings perfectly.   She did not have full large wings like I have seen in pictures and visions of other angels.  Her wings were small, full, curved at the top by her shoulders and then feathered out to rounded points by her waist.  The wings were situated on either side of her spine.  Her thin dark blond hair was pulled back in a small loose bun at the nape of her neck.  She had on a gown that was flowing but set close to her body.  Her gown was off-white, silky and loose at the top showing the upper part of her back and shoulders.  I saw the curve of her waist and just the top part of her legs.

What really got my attention, though, was that her head was bent forward and rested in the palm of her left hand.  I don’t understand why the angel had her hand up to her forehead.  She seemed so sad and I didn’t understand why.  I did feel, however, that this angel was taking away pain.  She was taking away all of the hurt and confusing I was feeling.  I wondered for a moment if this was why the baby had stopped crying, too.  Did the angel comfort the baby first before coming to see me?

Suddenly, my attention was drawn across the room.  I looked towards the windows and then, for some reason, turned to look at the clock.  It was 3 am.  I turned back to look at the angel…and she was gone.  I wish I could have talked to her.  But it really didn’t matter.  I was safe and warm and soon drifted back off to a peaceful sleep.

I wondered for a moment while this particular memory kept presenting itself to me today and then I suddenly realized something.  I was reminded of God, angels, and love today.  I guess I really didn’t spend Easter by myself.

Happy Easter, everyone!  God Bless You!