Palpable.

I consider myself to be a person of faith, yet it took me years to identify the palpable force behind the amazing things that happen in my life.

In fact, it was my younger sister who said (about our Mom), “She’s so in tune with the Holy Spirit.” I think about that force a lot. I think about it when I’m having a particularly bad day and a certain one of my friends calls (every time) and says, “Are you okay, sweetie? Something told me to call you.” Whoooaaa. How does she DO that?

I think about it after something worrisome keeps me awake at night and I finally give up trying to control it, say a little prayer and fall asleep. Then I wake up the next morning and it has been resolved.

You may call this coincidence or intuition, but it's MUCH bigger than that. I’m no expert at this stuff, but I’ve come to understand that the Holy Spirit is behind all things creative. It is inspiration. It is music, art, poetry, photography, dance and creativity. It is what moves us to tears of joy and compassion, to do humanitarian work and to fall in love. It moves us to be HEARD and not HERDED. (I saw that on a bumper sticker today. Love it.) It is what makes us march to the beat of our individual drummers.

But there are also dark forces that battle all that is good. Unfortunately, they too are palpable. Sometimes they manifest in the weird, like during a full moon when all the crazies come out. (Don’t believe me? Ask someone who works in the ER.) Other times, those forces are …well, just scary.

This afternoon, I felt something akin to a cold breeze of these forces blowing through. Within 10 minutes, I received some dark and disappointing news from three different and unrelated sources. (Two via unrelated text messages from different people I rarely hear from.) Coincidence? I guess I figure if you have to stop and question it, it’s more than coincidence. I won’t go into detail about those incidences except to say that I could FEEL the tide of my day change. And for the first time, I took stock at that moment. Deep breath. Sigh. Send up a little prayer for help. Search for the right words (and pray that I might be able to get my ego out of the way before I respond). Let go.

I know. You’re thinking I’m one of those new agey, touchy-feely, odd and freaky chicks. Or, at the very least, soapbox preachy. Maybe. But here’s what this all boils down to:

The older I get, the more I realize how very little control we have over anything. Or anyone. Some days feel like an epic battle between good and evil where all we can do is stand by and watch helplessly. My first instinct on those days is to run home, get into my jammies and hide under the blankets. (And maybe watch a Jane Austen movie, disappearing into a more genteel era.) But then I remember that my job … OUR job … is to trust. And to try and stand strong for all that is good for each and every sacred soul. There is a line from a great song that reminds me to hang in there:

“This is my Father’s world, oh and let me never forget, that though the wrong seems often so strong, God is the ruler yet.”