Who Keeps Messaging Me? An Angel? Departed Loved-One? God?!
Have I totally lost it? Or have I officially been messaged —repeatedly now—by an angel, a departed loved one, or even God?!
Ordinarily, I get through the toils and snares of my life by praying, reaching out to wiser ones, and meditating on The Serenity Prayer. But time and intensity can take its toll. Truth be told, lately I’ve felt almost ground down to the nub. I know am very blessed with a wonderful nuclear family, a host of quality friends, and an incredible, insightful therapist. I know I can’t make it without turning to my Higher Power on a daily basis. Yet, even with these supports, I confess I’ve been struggling to keep the faith.
Maybe I got to critical mass last week and somebody, somewhere thought I needed serious signage!
Last Tuesday when I was at my grant-writer job reading my mail, I noticed something a bit odd. A particular and faithful corporation who gives us a good-size check every year at this time had a “bungle” on the salutation part of their formal business letter explaining their grant award.
They had addressed the letter to Tanja Esperanza Moriarty. Esperanza? Well, my professional ‘signature’ for the past 9 years has always been “Tanja B. Moriarty.” I don’t even spell out or usually hyphenate my maiden name at work. I just use the B and a period.
In my very limited Spanish, I know that Esperanza means “hope.” Ha! I’m sure short in that department, I thought.
I showed the letter and “Esperanza” to my co-worker Val. A woman of strong faith without missing a beat claimed, “That’s God giving you a little encouraging punch on the shoulder.”
I was still in “self-wallowing mode” and said, “Hope-schmope!”
“Come on, Girl,” she scolded.
I smirked, but since I’ve had more than a few funky/spiritual things happen in my life (see Mind,Body, Soul posts), I decided to make a copy of the letter to keep in my pocketbook. Had the door to my hardened heart opened just a crack?
The very next day, I went to outpatient radiology for my annual mammogram. I checked in at the window and was told to take a seat. I grabbed a chair in the waiting area and wouldn’t ya know it? Right in front of me was a small table with this tri-fold brochure staring me right in the face:
My heart jumped a bit. The crack of the door of my boarded-up heart pushed open just a teeny bit further. “O.K.” I said aloud. “I’m paying attention.”
Later that afternoon, I had met my wonderful pastor for cup of