There are rare moments when whispers from another world reach me.
They tend to bring joy with them, like an orange sky dawning over a field glistening with dew, like a toddler running to you with a captured snail in his hand, like a letter adorned with your handwritten name appearing through the letterbox.
But these whispers aren’t like orange skies, captured snails, or handwritten letters.
They do not come at the same time every day; they do not hide in a certain part of the garden; and they do not stay where I put them.
Instead, they come at times appointed by angels; from places hidden on the other side of eternity’s ridge; they come and go like a bird flitting between the trees of the forest.
Like birds, maybe. But more like wind, or breath, or gravity; the whispers act independently of us, and are so very hard to hold.
But still, my heart tells me there is value in the act of trying to grasp them in the moment, remember the joy they brought, and record them whenever I can.
THEIR WORDS
The whispers make people feel light-hearted the day after some heavy news has rocked their soul. The whispers make you suddenly appreciate the clothes on your back, the breath in your lungs, and even the regular words of a friend you thought you had grown tired of.
The whispers encourage:
You were made for this.
You are not alone.
Don’t let that harsh word define you.
The whispers bring clarity:
This is the right way to go.
They don’t mean what they’re saying.
You have been too passive – you should have acted long ago.
The whispers highlight and magnify what is beautiful:
There is no piece of artwork better crafted than the petals of that flower.
Her laugh is so pretty, it’s like music.
You really should look up at the stars tonight – they’re magnificent.
The whispers warn of danger:
Don’t make the same mistake as your father.
You cannot risk your family’s safety.
That person is not acting right – you need to keep an eye on them.
But these whispers are not spoken just so that we may think differently and live differently. These whispers are spoken so that we might find the one who wants to communicate to us from another world.
THEIR SOURCE
Some people think whispers like these are just our own thoughts, echoes of things we have learned in the past, or an evolutionary instinct to be better social creatures. Come on, now. The whispers are too good. They are too true, too loving, too… perfect.
So perfect that we often can’t even handle them. Especially if they mean forgiving the ones we hate, opening parts of our heart we’ve never opened, or crossing our well-maintained comfort borders.
But our hearts, on those all-too-infrequent, grace-coloured days, love every word of the whisper. And sometimes we glimpse, however briefly, the one from whom the whispers come.
There is one like the wind, who moves, but we do not know where from, or where to.
There is one like a bird, who catches our attention and guides us to what is true and good.
There is one like a spirit, who comforts and encourages and transforms.
Let those who have ears to hear, hear what its whispers have to say. And let those who have hearts to know, know the one who whispers to us from another world.