“The truth will set you free, but you have to be able to endure the labor pains of birthing it.”-Iyanla Vanzant
(Me to my Intuition)
Q: Can I trust that everything is happening for me?
Knowing the work and doing the work are very different. It’s one thing to know, and another to do. It’s akin to “watching” someone exercise and exercising. I shared in my last post that this is the season of becoming, and this post is an example of how I am becoming. And WOW… has this been a season. To be clear… I am NOT looking for myself. I am BECOMING myself. What does that even mean? It means that I am allowing God to work through me in extraordinary ways. I’m not just consuming- I’m getting quieter and more still in my daily life. I’m no longer interested in “the hustle” (unless you’re talking about the song (obviously) and then-YES! let’s dance!) I’m at a deeper understanding and putting into practice the things I’ve been learning my whole life. Remember when I said that I felt as though God had been preparing me for this my whole life here and here too. Yes. That’s what I’m talking about. I continue to practice what I know. And what I know is that God is ALWAYS guiding us. Always.
So I thought this was a great experience to share because I think it’s a perfect example of how Intuition (God) is always working, but only if we’re paying attention can we see it. I’ve shared this story with a few people since it happened but sharing it here felt right. And since I’m allowing my Intuition to guide me, who am I to argue? (If you follow me on FB (@beckleycandle), you may have seen the video I shared in the last couple of weeks about the FedEx truck… that is another really great example.)
Several weeks ago, I attended a cracker barrel session in a small local town. (A cracker barrel is where our state representatives come together to share and hear from the people.) At the end of the meeting, a man approached our group and introduced himself as Detective Sam Stearley; he said he was running for Sherrif, gave us his card, and we had a conversation. His name was familiar, but I couldn’t place him. I told him I felt like I knew him, and we tried to connect the dots, to no avail. We asked him a few questions about what kind of office he would run, etc. and I liked the things he had to say. I also liked that he’d taken the time to come to the cracker barrel session, introduce himself, and listen to our concerns.
Fast forward a few weeks, my mom called and said they were having a forum at one of the county high schools on the following Saturday, and all of the men running for Sherrif would be there answering questions. At first, I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to give up a Saturday to sit in an auditorium and listen to politicians. (truth). However, in the next day or so, I reconsidered. I know that the most powerful position in any county is that of the Sherrif, and this was too important not to go, so I decided to attend after all.
Before I had left that morning, I’d taken Grinch on our daily walk, and he’d managed to sling mud all over me right before we got back home, causing me to run short on time. I quickly changed my clothes, locked the door, and got in the car. As soon as I was pulling out of the drive, I realized I’d forgotten to grab a notebook, and I knew I would want to take notes. Quickly running back into the house in my irritated and hurried state, I scanned my desk, looking for paper. I spotted an old notebook I hadn’t used in quite some time and decided it would do.
When I got to the high school, my mom wasn’t there yet. So I grabbed a seat near the back, sent her a quick text to tell her where I was, and settled in. All four candidates were present on the stage and ready to answer questions. I grabbed the notebook out of my purse and opened it up. At this point, you can probably guess just what happened next. And if you guessed that when I opened that notebook up to the VERY first page, and on the top of that page, it said: Detective Sam Stearley, then you would be correct!
Along with his phone number, what state police post he was with, and a few other notes from “that day.” I was 100% flabbergasted. All I could do was look at the page. You, like my daughter Erin, had probably figured out as soon as I said- Detective Sam Stearley- in the second paragraph above that he was here the day Joe died. I, however, didn’t. It never even occurred to me that the police had been at my house before. Of course, I knew the police were here- but it didn’t register with me- AT ALL- when I was trying to place him and why he was familiar! No association whatsoever. Even knowing that he was a detective, worked for the state police, etc., I didn’t connect the dots. A block had been placed there. That’s a trauma response.
As soon as I saw his name, I remembered the day that he was standing in my kitchen asking me hard questions. He wanted to know deeply intimate things about my and Joe’s life together. Me, not realizing at the time that I was the one being investigated. I was the one who would be put under a microscope and have to defend myself. Where was I? What was I doing? Did I hear the gunshot? Could I have done this horrible thing to my beloved? Tell me about the days and the weeks leading up to this day. It felt so intrusive. He was the one who would take Joe’s belongings. His phone, “the” note, and the gun… Joe’s personal effects… as they all related to his death. I didn’t want them to take anything. I wanted them to leave everything with me. I wanted to cling to everything that was Joe. Everything.
And as I looked back on that day, June the 26th of 2020, and standing in the kitchen with Detective Sam Stearley and the deputy coroner, all I could remember was the compassion with which he spoke to me and asked me those hard questions. It’s not every day that you will find someone that has to deal with this type of situation and be able to show you kindness and generosity of spirit. I KNEW in an instant- as soon as I opened the notebook and saw his name that this was from God. God guiding me to who I needed to vote for on election day.
As soon as the forum ended mom and I made our way to Detective Stearley. I was eager to tell him what had transpired and how I knew him. He remembered being at the house, he remembered meeting us at the cracker barrel session, and he remembered seeing mom on the overpass as the freedom convoy rolled through our area. At this date and time, I was able to say thank you to him. I told him that the compassion he showed me that day was not forgotten and was deeply appreciated. He introduced us to his wife and his daughter. And on our way out of the high school, Detective Stearley stopped me again and offered some words of comfort. He wanted to make sure that I knew that Joe’s death by suicide was not my fault. He wanted to be sure I wasn’t taking on a burden that wasn’t mine to carry. More compassion.
This is how Intuition works and a perfect example of HOW God speaks to us. But we have to be paying attention. This works in every area of our lives if we allow it- from the simplest things in our daily lives to the BIG things we need to decide. And like anything and everything we want to get good at… we have to practice flexing that muscle.
Do you have an “inner knowing” that there’s guidance that is not visible but felt? If yes, YAY!!! If not, keep listening… it is there, I promise. It’s our internal GPS, or our God Providing System, as I’m now calling it.
Can I trust? 100%!
Are you listening?
xo, and peace. Always peace.
As always…thank you for reading, commenting, sharing, and your lovely messages of hope, faith, and inspiration. If what I’m writing resonates with you, let me know. Leaving a comment here on the blog is the best way to connect. This is helping me. I hope that it’s also helping you. Much love.
Suicide is not a selfish act. It’s a desperate act.
Call: Lifeline 1 800 273 8255 (USA Only)Text: CNQR to 741 (741 Crisis Text Line (USA Only) Visit:
I just want the pain to stop… (video)
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