I am forever searching for signs that I’m in the right place or that I’m doing the right thing.  When I was a little girl my grandmother took me to Primary.  Primary is part of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  It is for the young children attending church.  Back in my day it was a mid week thing.  Now it is part of the regular church service.

As a small child I was instructed to look for the ways my father in heaven took care of me.  I just remember the teacher trying to get her point across that all of the creatures of the earth were to remind us of the love of the universe.  We have the ability to see them in the way God sees them and we should appreciate them.

When I was 8 years old my grandfather died.  I remember getting off the bus stop 1 stop ahead of where I normally got off so I could walk with my friends the rest of the way.  It was a sunny late October afternoon.  I can still see the way in my minds eye as I walked past the Lyon’s home and my normal bus stop.  I was happy.

My happiness was cut short by my Granny meeting me at the door.  The rest is bits and pieces but the day of the funeral someone gave me the cross that was hanging in his casket.  It has stayed with me through my childhood, two marriages, three children, countless moves and currently resides in my Granny’s cedar chest in my living room.

This was my first sign of doing everything right and still having things go wrong.  This was the first stepping stone to how I got to where I am today.  When my grandfather died my self worth left too.  It’s hard being the oldest child, it’s hard being the first great grandchild and the first grandchild.  There’s a lot of pressure to be the best.  It’s how I got to be a perfectionist.

I started looking for signs as a teen ager.  I would watch for falling stars.  I trusted answers from the magic 8 ball.  My mom had her cards read and it said I’d marry someone from the northwest.  The person I thought that was about turned out to be a fairy tale.  But I did marry someone from the northwest, and that was a total disaster.

I stopped looking for signs after that.

Until Jerry died.

I was a mess.  I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right things so I asked God to send me signs.  He hasn’t let me down and I like to think Jerry is part of them too.  Hawks appear where hawks shouldn’t be.  Every trip I’ve taken we see a hawk, usually a red tail.  One landed in the flower bed not long after he died.  Ned LeDoux wrote a song about his dad Chris.  When we heard it, it was just like it was written for us.  It’s titled The Hawk.

I recently had a near miss in my car.  I was stopped at a stop light on my way home from work.  I heard breaks screeching, metal on metal but I could not see where the noise was coming from.  The next thing I noticed was a blue truck barreling toward me in my rearview mirror. It kind of lifted up sideways and crossed the road ending up on the park strip right next to the intersection.

How no one got hurt I have no idea.  The gentleman driving the truck looked stunned. As I proceeded home a red tail was circling above me.  I know my angel saved me from certain injury.  Signs are everywhere if you are open to seeing them.

I took a page from my good friend Joy Larsen who gave birth to a child who is special needs.  She shared that everyday she would pray to see that child into adulthood.  He made it and so did she.  I pray for the same, my boy has been through enough.  He does not need to lose me too.  So like Joy, I pray god willing I get to be here to see him have his own babies.  Knowing that I am asking for such a thing enables me to see the daily miracles in my life.

Signs are how I know a power larger than me is in charge and loves me.  He allows me grace and sends me signs to keep going forward.  He allows angels to continue to minister to me both those I can see and those I can’t.

My faith is simple.  My signs are simple.  It doesn’t make any of it less real.





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