Throughout my life, people who know me, have learned that I am one of those people who has a gift for seeing, hearing, and feeling beyond my own comprehension.  When I was a child, I was told that I had a gift called dream prophecy.  In the earliest recollections, I certainly did not understand where those dreams came from, or why.  Everyone dreams, don't they?  At least, that is what I believed...that dreams are a part of our lives, and that almost everyone of us has had more dreams than we can recall.  In fact, we often dream, and have very vivid dreams, and when we wake, we cannot recall a single thing about the dream...other than....we know we had one.   Many people report dreaming in living color, where they can describe every piece of clothing, or every item, place or person within the dream; while others cannot recall anything other than black and white.   Scholars and people who study dreams can give us many interpretations of dreams, but...it's still a mystery to me where they originate.

   In early years, I would recall a dream, and repeat it to my mother or grandmother, and think little of it.  Later, the dream would come to pass exactly as I dreamed it...although it could be weeks or even months later.  Dreaming prophetic things was not happy for me; as most of what I dreamed were negative happenings, and all too often, they occurred precisely as foretold.  In mid-teens, I dreaded going to sleep at night for fear of dreaming and, naturally, there was really little I could do to avoid a dream...if one were going to happen. The best way that I can describe my dreams is that they are as if my mind is a DVD player, and the disc goes in, and then it plays... the movie or story and pictures unfold, and then it ends. I wake up, and all too often, I've learned over the years, to keep a notepad handy, so that I can jot down as much of the premonition as possible.  Usually, I fall back to sleep, and when I awake the following morning, there will be this piece of paper filled with notes in my own handwriting, and I wonder, "where did this come from?"

   This story I will tell today is not a spectacular one; however, it will represent what has become a common occurrence in my life.  It is as if I am drawn to certain people, as if they are sent to me during certain seasons of life, and they visit for awhile, and then they disappear.  I've learned to take advantage of every visit and to appreciate the value that it brings. 

   For example:  I met a lady on Authors Den; a fellow author and writer, and we have reviewed, commented, and chatted over the web on several occasions.  On one occasion she commented that her deceased beloved had a nickname of "Hawk" and that he had always told her he would find ways to show his presence in her life after he was gone.  She related a couple of incidents, and I was not shocked, because I am a believer, but I was moved by her recollections of him and these particular events.  A few weeks passed, and I was in the throes of packing and moving, and I could not explain the exhaustion that had overwhelmed me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.  Sure, moving is labor intensive, and emotionally can drain one as well; but I was feeling much more intense along these lines, and almost as if I were on the verge of a serious breakdown, or illness.  I simply could not pin-point what was happening within me; however, I mentioned something about this to my new AD friend, and dismissed it further from my mind.

   The following day I had to drive into the city, and in doing so I pass an Indian Reservation.  There is nothing uncommon about the drive, and the reservation is simply acres and acres of desert and rocks on both sides of the interstate.  On this particular day, however, I had to stop at the Ak-Chin Casino to make an address change and get lunch, and when I arrived at the parking lot, I noticed that there were hundreds of birds all around....literally filling every tree limb, and every power line.  The noise of the birds was raucous and it sort of reminded me of that old Hitchcock movie, The Birds.  As I was crossing the parking lot, I noticed that near a huge bronze statue of a cactus with an American Eagle perched above, that there was a white hawk (although a living one,not a sculpture) perched on one of the arms of the cactus.  It was as if this hawk was staring at me, and I couldn't hold my glance, because a part of me was afraid.  I don't know what I was afraid of...but...nonetheless, it was fear I felt.   Lunch went nicely, and then I got in my SUV for the drive into the city, which is about 40 plus miles, with the Hassayampa Indian Reservation in between.

   Once again, I noticed the birds were out in full force, and they appeared to be black ravens....hundreds, perhaps thousands of them everywhere.  As I rode in the SUV, I did as I normally do...stare out the window and notice the rock formations, or the dead and broken tree limbs that seem to have found a place in the desert and appear to be formations sitting askew.  Some of the dead limbs look like animals sitting alone, among the rocks and desert.  AS we drove, I commented about all the birds being out, and about seeing the white hawk at the AK-Chin, and that was when I noticed the white hawk once again!  The hawk was siting along a wooden fence post along the highway, and I wondered if it could be the same onethat I'd seen just a short while before. 

   The day went smoothly, and I was feeling quite calm and not so stressed as I had been the previous days, although the move was still looming in the days ahead.  By the time we returned later that day, I made it a point to search for the hawk all along the miles between the city and home, but I did not see it again.  It was then that I realized that it was as if the hawk was watching over me/us, and I felt the uneasiness begin to leave me.   Although I was and continue to be quite tired from the move; it has only been a week or so.... I am not feeling that anxiousness from before. 

    My AD friend sent me a little note, coincidently, and said, something like, "I sent a prayer to the hawk, and he's watching over you."   Can you imagine my thoughts?????   She had no clue about what had been happening the previous day on my drive into the city, about the birds, or the hawk....  So... I proceeded to tell her briefly in a note.   Later she said, "I prayed and he answered"......

   These type of occurrences are not coincidences.....they are planned, and they are visits from messengers sent by God to protect us, to guide us, and to give us strength and hope.   We can only learn from these events, and to trust God that He will give us what we need when we need it.   I sincerely hope that you will pay closer attention to your daily happenings, and realize that many of the wonderful things, the little incidents that turn into good, are not accidental....  They are gifts sent to us because we are loved!

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