Coloradoans are so accustomed to unpredictable wind currents sweeping over the Rocky Mountains, bringing rain, snow or sunshine, that we often joke to visitors, “If you don’t like the weather, just stick around for ten minutes and watch it change.”
Happy to reside in our beautiful state, I drank in the beauty of the Rocky Mountains silhouetted against a cloudless blue sky as I drove to a nearby shopping mall. During breakfast, my husband Jim mentioned that since it was such a nice day he might clean leaves from our roof gutters and check the chimney bricks while I was gone.
I reached the mall and went inside. After browsing through stores and making some purchases, I was surprised when I heard a masculine voice say, “Sally, go home.”
Startled, I looked around, but saw no man near me. It was still too early for the morning rush so there wasn’t a large throng of shoppers. Puzzled, I left that store and entered another shop. Soon I heard the same voice repeat that same message. Thinking a friend might be hiding and playing a practical joke I searched the area nearby, but there were no men in sight.
Unnerved, I took a deep breath and told myself that healthy people do not hear voices. Do they? Was it possible that the voice I heard was in reality my subconscious mind warning me that some predator lurked in the mall seeking an easy prey to rob?
When I heard, “Sally, go home,” for the third time, I remembered a Jewish friend telling me that “angel” and “messenger” were the same word in the Hebrew language. Whether that voice belonged to an angel or my subconscious didn’t seem as important as the message. I hurried toward the parking lot saying a silent prayer: “Dear God, thank you for surrounding me with your white protective shield of love so my heart, mind, body and soul are attuned to your positive forces.”
I looked around as I hurried to my car to make sure no one was stalking me, unlocked the door, shoved my packages on the passenger seat, and scooted inside. After locking the door, I drove away, constantly checking my rear view mirror to make sure I wasn’t being followed.
As I drove toward home, leaden clouds and gusty winds replaced the cerulean blue sky I had admired only an hour earlier. Since I was accustomed to these short wind bursts, I adjusted my speed and arrived back in my neighborhood safely.
All the way home, I wondered about that message. But as soon as I turned the corner to my street and saw Jim clinging to the chimney and his ladder lying on the ground, I realized why the voice urged me to return home.
“Thank God, you’re back,” Jim called.
I parked the car, picked up the ladder, leaned it against the house and steadied it while he climbed down.
Smiling, I looked toward heaven and thanked the voice.