Ever wonder how something just manages to be in the cosmic Whatever-The-Heck-It-Is when it shows up in your life . . . “coincidentally?”
I don’t believe in coincidence. The problem, though, I don’t know exactly what to call this "visitor." Follow me on this. Maybe you can tell me what''s going on.
Recently I went to the drugstore for a few needed items. As I walked the aisles, that voice that lives in my head started talking to me. He/she (I''ve never really figured that part out) told me to buy a headband. I briefly argued with it, continuing on down the aisle that housed the items I really wanted.
I had a headband, fercryingoutloud, I was wearing it, and it was in great condition. It wasn’t expensive, one of those brown plastic thingies, but it served my purposes well. My hair is just long enough that if I let it hang loose during day-to-day activity, it gets in my face. It''s aggravating. I don’t like to have to constantly push it out of the way, so I wear headbands.
Now, the truth is, I’ve recently moved and of everything I had before I left my old house, the one set of items I can no longer find is a make-up bag full of headbands. They’ve simply disappeared. So the idea of buying more wasn’t totally out of the realm of logic.
Still, it was a thought that . . . POOF! . . . was just there. All of a sudden. No warning ahead of time. Nothing reminded me of headbands. The voice started talking to me without preamble. Actually, nagging me is more like it.
“Buy headbands. They’re sold here. Buy them. The one you have is going to break.”
It briefly crossed my mind that the voice in my head needed a life, so I didn’t bother to argue with it. Instead, I bluntly ignored it. I wasn’t in the mood to do any real shopping. I was going in, getting what I needed, and getting out.
But it wasn’t to be that easy. “Buy headbands. They’re sold here. Buy them. What you have is going to bre - eaak.” Now the darned voice was getting sing-songy. Impertinent.
After all, it was MY head it lived in. The nerve!
Okay, already. I gave in with a dramatic sigh. If anyone was around me, I''m sure they thought I was nutz. I didn''t notice, though. I was too busy arguing with the intruder in my head.
I trudged over to the hair doo-dads section and searched for the plastic brown and black headbands, but found none. All I could locate were some that were fabric-covered, in bright colors. Not exactly what I would normally wear but since the voice was still going at me -- like a kid that wouldn''t give up -- I took them to the register and shelled out the chump change.
The next morning, a Saturday, I leisurely awoke, took my shower, and did the towel-dry thing. After I dressed, I brushed my shoulder-length locks, nonchalantly adding my trusty brown plastic headband and -- how else? -- artfully arranging my very straight hair around it.
And the dad-gummed headband BROKE.
Tell me, please, how does this happen? I don’t want to know how the headband broke. That I figured out. No, I want the important answers to the following burning questions:
1). Who/what is the voice living in my head? Should I be charging rent?
2). How does he/she get there?
3). How does he/she know everything – before it even happens? Can I consider it a psychic and become its agent?
4). How did he/she learn how to nag so well? I know, guys, you''ll say this proves it''s a woman.
5). Why don’t I listen more often?
6). And WHY is he/she always right?! Yes, ladies, this truly proves it''s a woman, doesn''t it?!!
I'm the landlord -- and I don't think I'm charging enough.
Before my son was born, I wanted very much to have a baby. However, it did not happen right away so I went to have fertility treatments. It cost a lot of money and went on for a while with no success. I was getting tired of the scientific answer to this age old puzzle, so I started praying about having a child. I told God what kind of child that I wanted. I wanted one with special gifts. Not long after that I was pregnant and could not thank God enough for my answered prayer.
When the child was old enough to eat solid foods, it was hard to get him to eat anything that had protein. He wanted food with a soft texture and did not like beans. I finally decided to give him hot dog weiners for the little bit of protein that they contained. As soon as I made this decision, a voice in my head said "leukemia". Every time that I thought about it I heard the same thing,"leukemia". I had questions; so I gave the voice a list. I said, "rice" and heard nothing. When other foods were mentioned, I heard nothing, but when I got back to the weiners, I heard it again,"leukemia". (Bologna was listed, but I heard nothing when I got to that one. I am convinced now that it was because he did not like bologna either). Finally, I asked, "pinapples?" This time I got a complete sentence,"Pineapples are good." No words were ever spoken out loud. Every time I got back to the subject and asked about pineapples, I heard the same complete sentence, "Pineapples are good." So I went to the store and bought the enormous industrial size cans of pineapples and fed them to my son and his cousins to be sure that there was always more than any one person could eat, and therefore everyone would have more than enough.
I had forgotten the incident until about five years later. My mother told me about a clown at a children's hospital where the leukemia patients were kept who asked the crowd of children, "Who likes hot dogs?" Doctors were stunned when the whole mob of children raised their hands. Researchers took note. Studies were made. Finally, hot dog weiners and bologna were found to cause a high incidence of leukemia in children. Nothing was ever said about pineapples. I asked my mother about it. She did not know. She only knew what the researchers reported on television.
So recently I looked it up on the internet to find out what is know about children's diets in relation to childhood leukemia. I found that a diet that is high in good protein such as regular meats and beans prevent childhood leukemia but not weiners or bologna. That is the kind of diet that my son had. Therefore he was at risk. I also found out that pineapples are known to prevent a lot of diseases including cancer which leukemia might be included in, but that was still not mentioned by name. So I assume that doctors still do not know what I know.
Getting back to the subject of a voice inside your head. That was God telling me how to protect my son. Not every voice is a good voice. Satan exists and gets people into trouble. The bible says to try the spirits and see if they are of God in 1 John 4:1 and also 1 Timothy 4:1-3. Something to look up on the internet is ChristianWord.org. These people have some terrific free prayer books and will explain it far more thoroughly than I ever could in this space.
I cannot really say whether the voice that you heard was God or Satan but I can say that Jesus said, "You will know men by their fruits." People will know who you obey by the way you act. Sometimes the voice is that real. Sometimes it is not. Let me give you a hint. Satan is a nagger. God is polite.
Birgit and Roger