“Listen, and Trust”

Listen, and Trust
by ~ Anita Skocz

In the early morning hours between four and six, when the house still slumbers, I awaken with a heightened anticipation of communing with the Divine voice that resides within. There are times when my mind invites a circus of distractions to break the silence, and the richness of the discourse can not take place. But, more often a whisper will find its way, and before long a conversation transpires that floods me with profound new thoughts, and I am encouraged to pack up the old mindsets, cobwebs and all, and ingest a grander understanding. It is a time that I always welcome with a sacredness, and I listen ~ knowing “truth” is being imparted.

Sometimes these moments tend to bring a whisper less sacred in nature, but one that needs to be listened to, and followed through with unwavering trust. I am going to share a story of such a prompting, that happened many years ago. It took place after a trip to my birth place, the area I will always call home, Pittsburgh. In the wee hours, shortly after I connected to the stillness all around me, a gentle voice directed me.

“It is time to search for a new van; your journeys will be many.”

At the time I smiled thinking, but my pocketbook is empty. Quickly, I reeled in that thought of lack. I knew from many occasions that giving “doubt” any recognition was a betrayal to this blessed guidance. I must listen, with trust. So, as Bonni put me in my chair that morning, I shared my guidance, and asked if she would keep an eye out for a van. As a Home Health Caregiver, there were plenty of used car lots as she traveled, and I was certain a van would wink at her, and ask her for a home.

In about two weeks a beautiful turquoise van grabbed her attention, and knowing my love for the color, she stopped to look inside. As far as she could tell it was in perfect condition, but there was nobody to question further, as the lot was closed for the day. That evening she was excited to drive me for a peek. It was love at first sight, and my inner calm and instant connection indicated that this “tropical ride” was the one for me.

On the way home I thought about the funds needed, and although nothing presented itself “yet,” I was ready to speak with the dealer the next day. Unfortunately, as Bonni drove through town in the afternoon, it was gone ~ sold. When she told me, I was confused. I had the strongest of feelings that this van was the one, and I named her Gypsy. I truly believed I received the nod from my inner guidance on this vehicle. Was I getting rusty?

Setting aside the disappointment, I accepted that Gypsy had sold, and Bonni kept watch for her replacement. I trusted that early morning messenger too many times, and had no intention to turn my back on it now. Within days, I received a call from Bonni announcing she was on her way to pick me up. Her voice was a bit playful and mysterious, and before long she had me loaded in my old van, and we were off on an adventure. Although she kept quiet, her glow had my curiosity percolating, and it felt good. It was not long when I rubbed my eyes; I thought I was dreaming. There, shining amongst all the other vehicles on the lot, stood Gypsy.

“Oh my God, she came back!”

This time a salesman came out, and we were able to here her life’s story. Her first owner, an elderly couple, used her to pull a small boat. But, with only ten thousand miles on her, she was retired due to the death of one of the owners. She was purchased a few days ago by a young couple. The wife wanted safe transportation for her three children, but after driving her two days, she felt Gypsy was too big. I realized she was meant for me.

Bonni and the salesman pulled away for a test run, and again I admired her as the engine boasted of its fine upkeep. With no funds at the time, I honored the voice and trusted, while I began to haggle on the price. We shook hands on a bargain of a number, and the salesman even offered to deliver Gypsy to my home. She would be mine in two days, after he had her detailed ~ still trusting.

Doubts tried to steal the magic, but my guidance was clear and I had no fear. After dinner that evening the phone rang, it was a dear friend from Pittsburgh. Her name was Dee, my basketball coach from high school. We had the same birthday, and over the years I never missed sending her a card accompanied by an insanely funny letter. It was after my accident, that she started to call regularly to check on me, and talk politics and Steelers football.

This night was different. She was wanting to say something, but it was hard for her to release the words. After clearing her throat a number of times she slowly skipped around to the real subject matter.

“It was really nice seeing you in Pittsburgh; I am still laughing at your crazy stories. But, I must say I was concerned about something. When I watched you pull out of the parking lot at the restaurant, I thought your van looked like it may not be able to bring you back to visit again. In fact, I worried about all of you getting back to Florida.”

Dee proceeded to tell me that every year she gave a sizable donation to different organizations at this time of the year, and this year, in lieu of the donations, she wanted to purchase a van for me. I started to cry as I realized that the Divine voice within was speaking to both of us. Her whispers were to give, and mine to gracious receive. When I explained the message given to me, and the story that followed, we both were in awe ~ as we both chose to listen, and trust.

When we recovered from the mind-bending timing of it all, Dee presented me with an amount that she felt she could put towards the purchase. Again I found myself speechless, it was two hundred dollars over the price I had settled on that very day ~ money from heaven. With gratitude filling every part of my being, I thanked her for her generous gift. Humbly, she began talking about the arrangements for the funds, and inside my head I marveled about my blessed gift.

In August 2004 my father, mother and Bonni and I made a trip up to Pittsburgh for my fathers eighty fifth birthday. Gypsy carrying us in style, like she did on many adventures. While there, we went to lunch with Dee, and the afternoon was spent in joyful reminiscing, plus a lot of political bantering. After we said our good-byes in the parking lot, I sat in my chair and watched Dee drive away ~ thirty eight years of friendship. But as she pulled out of sight, my inner voice whispered.

“This is the last time you will see Dee.”

I began to cry, and surely thought it would be I that made the transition first. But, when we talked on our birthday March 12, 2005, she revealed she had just been diagnosed with a progressive form of scleroderma, and the doctors were very surprised at how aggressive it was behaving. Each time we talked after that day, her roaring laugh faded more and more, but her spirit never waivered. In August, a year to the day we had lunch, we spoke for the last time. She did not tell me, but she elected to stop her dialysis that week.

On August 21, 2005 my birthday buddy passed peacefully.

It is March, and I am thinking of Dee. I have listened many times to my inner promptings, and trusted. But in memory of our dear friendship, I wanted to tell this particular story of inner messages. When your guidance whispers clearly, do not let doubts steal the magic ~ listen, and fearlessly act with unwavering trust.

a vanThis is exactly what Gypsey looked like, but she glowed a turquoise smile.  Everytime we went to Pittsburgh, my friends knew I was in town.  In Florida she just blended in, but up north ~ she always announced my arrival.

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About anitaskocz

ANITA JOYCE SKOCZ is a storyteller who resides in Central Florida. She credits her passion to her father, who dazzled her imagination as a child with his gift to weaver a tale. After a diving accident in 1978, Anita left the travel industry to journey the inner roads of her soul. The riches found on those adventures inward come to life in her children’s books. Anita’s books, “Crystal Star Angel” and “Kite Tale,” were inspired by the loving relationships her father had with his grandsons. From Where I Sit is a blog where Anita shares her life’s stories, or comments on current events from her soul’s perspective. Her insights can evoke laughter as well as take one on a reflective journey. In any case she hopes you join her each Wednesday for a new adventure.
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