Listening to the Universe

I've become a fairly strong believer in listening to the universe. I'm undecided whether I'd call myself religious, but I've always felt like there was a force within each of us that connects us to each other and the greater body of creation.

Have I lost you yet? I swear, I'm not going off the deep end.

It's possible that within this universe we each have our special role, and that the Universe in some inexplicable way helps guide us towards that role. Maybe that's what some people talk about when they say God called to them or chose them to do something. At any rate, it feels like a call-and-response action. The universe calls, but you also have to be open and respond.

If I'm crazy, so is Oprah. Read this recent quote I found:

“I've come to believe that each of us has a personal calling that's as unique as a fingerprint - and that the best way to succeed is to discover what you love and then find a way to offer it to others in the form of service, working hard, and also allowing the energy of the universe to lead you. ”
―Oprah Winfrey

I think the universe was calling us to move to Richmond. I'm still not quite sure why yet, but maybe I'm not supposed to know the 'why.' I just know that a lot of nearly-impossible things became possible for this change to happen: Roy found a great job that paid us to move; We sold our house during a recession in the winter and made a profit on it; I found a job in a recession; and so forth.

I also have a thing with numbers, especially times, that sometimes feel like a universe-is-calling thing. Stick with me, this is kind of cool. This morning, I took the kids to get donuts before school.
My total? $11.11. I am home this morning because a repair guy is coming. I just paid him by check. The next check in my checkbook? 1111.

I am open to the next 1111 in my day. Whatever could it mean? No idea.

And here's a kicker story I've been wanting to blog about for a LONG TIME now. Since Christmas, to be exact. I'll make it brief.

We were at my parents' house and went to church with them. Shocker, I know, since we don't go to church. But it was Christmas after all. So the preacher's sermon was.... interesting. Kind of offensive actually because he essentially called all non-Christians idiots. But I digress.

The theme of his sermon was "God Wins." But he began by talking about a really beautiful idea that resonated, the idea of each of us having a river inside of us that flows and connects us to each other. (There's that universe thing again.) He painted a picture - kind of terrifying actually - of heaven where all that happens is we worship God, and that everything on earth is nothing compared to what awaits and people can deny him but ultimately, God wins.

Fast forward. We're driving home to Virginia and I'm kind of spacing out in the passenger seat. The kids are asleep in the back. Roy's driving. My mind drifts back to the sermon, because something about it stuck with me, bothered me. So I'm thinking about the theme, God wins. What does that mean, really?

And I look up, and the next exit coming up? Godwin, North Carolina.

True story. What does it mean? No earthly idea.