Voice In My Head

It's a long road to the top of the mountain, and if there isn't a phone to let the person on the top know you're on your way, you have to call them with your mind. God does it all the time or sends his messengers, the ones with louder voices because it's way far down below. I hear them, sometimes they play with me as I argue back. They did it once on a Saturday morning in February before breakfast. I was getting ready to work that day at a bookstore where I read people's palms. "Bring your seashell, one of the big ones," a voice whispered. Nope, I'm not, they're mine, I use them to decorate my little down stair's bathroom, nope, not this time. "We know, but just bring one, someone needs it today." I packed my gypsy bag with my bottled water, bananas, nuts, cardboard hand, pointing stick, glasses and lavender spray. "Don't forget the shell." I heard again. I'm going to ignore you, it's my voice in my own head, so you aren't real, gotta run! If you've ever heard the call, it's not pushy but it's hard to forget which is why I turned around and grabbed the starfish, stuffed it in my bag and left.

Driving to the bookstore takes about 35 minutes, I'm usually running ten minutes late and have people waiting for me before I can set the table the way I like. The starfish was placed to the left of the table and I actually forgot about bringing it. Some people are timid as they approach my scary chair because they think I can read their minds but once we hold hands and I thank them for allowing me to help validate what their soul already knows, they start to relax. There were so many clients that day, time erased itself and I went without lunch or water. It was getting dark when my last client arrived. Her name was Honey. She was mystery, dark hair and tattoo kind of mystery with loads of kids. A single mom who was learning about herbs, home schooling, bad men and overcoming a  violent childhood. We clicked immediately and I saw Hawaii in her aura with pineapples and farm living. There would be a safe place for her kids to grow. (She's in Kansas and doesn't own a car I reminded my guides) I handed her the starfish. "This is a gift from Spirit to you," I said. She jumped from her chair, hugged me, cried, laughed and told me that she had asked for a sign in the morning if Hawaii was a good move for her family. I met her son who was too old for his tender fourteen years and told him to leave worry behind, he wasn't the dad anymore. Woooh, my legs were in need of a walk so I packed up and that's when the boy came back in the room with a white rock as a gift for me!
My words had lifted twenty pounds from his body and he was grateful.

Now fast forward because it's June. I went to sleep thinking of the boy, worried about his broken door and  neighborhood. It was like we were having a conversation and the white stone gift giving replayed in my mind. I could see his face clearly and fell asleep with the vision of his smiling face. The next day was another palm reading Saturday so I packed up and thought of the woman named Honey and did she get to Hawaii? You can't imagine my surprise when I saw my table! There sat a yellow starfish with a note "Back to Sandy, From Honey." For a minute I was confused because it was a gift for her but then realized that was Honey's way of letting me know she went to Hawaii!

I realize it would scare us to death if our cell phones rang with a deep voice saying, "Hello, it's God, will you do me a favor?" So He speaks in whispers and the angels pray we hear. That's an awfully big mountain, so if you hear a message, I hope you have the trust to follow through.