Tangibles

I often request tangible signs from my Beloved that he is near not that I don’t believe that he is, but more because it has become a game between us, for him to leave little signs or perhaps big signs to brighten my day, to remind me of the magic of life and death and the lifting of the veil between us.

I have recently started a new job, no let me say, an old job with a new company.  The essence of the work, hospice, God’s work, I am aligned with, I understand, but the paperwork, oh my! I did not get into my line of work to do paperwork, but there is a saying in nursing, “If you don’t document it, you didn’t do it”. Even if perhaps you did.  So yesterday I was struggling with the newness of it all, it weighs me down, lends me to doubt, discourages me in fact. I often call out to the Angels and my Beloved for guidance in these moments if my ego has not shut down the pathway and taken over in its darkness.

Walking to my car during intermission of an extremely long meeting, a pink sparkle caught my eye.  I bent over and retrieved a guitar pick from the asphalt. Mind you this is a medical building, no music stores in sight.  There was a message on the pink iridescent pick, Romans 10:13. It was all about belief and salvation.  Faith, resurfaces asking for belief. What’s more amazing to me is that my Beloved was an accomplished guitarist. Tangibles make me smile.