Messages from Heaven- When You Least Expect It

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In this episode, we explore how ordinary moments can suddenly become signs that ease heavy hearts.

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Episode Transcript

SPEAKER_00 (00:30):
Hello everyone, and welcome back to CC Airwaves.
My name is Paige Matillo, andtoday we are back with another
episode of Messages from Heaven,where we share stories that
remind us of the love and hopethat endures even after loss.
Today's theme is when you leastexpect it.
Grief is unpredictable.
One moment you're going aboutyour day, and the next you're

(00:52):
hit with a wave of sadness, amemory, a longing for the person
that you've lost.
But just as grief can sneak upon us, so can peace, comfort,
light, a sign.
This episode is about thosesurprising moments when you're
not searching, not even thinkingabout it, and then something
happens.
The times when a message breaksthrough our sorrow, often in the

(01:12):
most unexpected ways.
You'll hear stories from peoplewho were in the middle of an
ordinary day and they were metwith something extraordinary: a
feeling, a sign, a gift thatreminded them that their loved
one is still near, that God seesthem, and that hope lives on.
This first story was submittedby Julianne S.

(01:33):
It had been three months since Ilost my sister, and I was still
struggling through each day,trying to make sense of a world
without her in it.
Grief is strange that way.
It sneaks up on you when youleast expect it, and that day it
hit me harder than ever.
I hadn't eaten much or sleptwell, so I decided to take a
walk and ended up at this tinycafe she used to love.

(01:53):
We had been there together somany times before, always
laughing over coffee and herfavorite dessert, lemon cake.
I ordered exactly that, hopingit might bring me some comfort.
As I ate the cake, I noticedsomething odd at the table.
A folded napkin tucked into theholder.
But it was a different colorthan the rest.
When I unfolded it, there was asmall sketch of a duck in blue

(02:18):
pen.
My sister used to call me duck.
I was obsessed with them.
It was our little thing, one ofthose silly nicknames that
sticks for life.
I asked the server if she knewwho had drawn it, but she
didn't.
She said it must have been adoodle left behind by another
customer.
Maybe it was, but I don't thinkso.
I believe it was meant for me.

(02:39):
Somehow that little drawing,simple as it was, brought me
some peace.
It reminded me that love doesn'tvanish and it lingers.
And in that moment, I felt herwith me.
Just for a second, but enough tokeep going.
Our next story is submitted byAlex R.

(03:00):
This story happened a littleover 10 years ago.
My dad and I had a tradition.
Every fall we take a triptogether.
It was our way of making timefor each other, even when life
got a little hectic.
I looked forward to those tripsmore than anything.
After he passed, the world feltoff balance and it didn't feel
right to take one of those tripswithout him.

(03:21):
But something inside me told methat I should do it.
So I booked the ticket, and whenI was at the airport, I glanced
at the screen, and the flight Iwas on was 1452.
And it hit me.
My dad's birthday was January4th, 1952.
I blinked a few times to makesure I wasn't imagining it, but

(03:44):
then I smiled.
I mean, it could have been acoincidence, but it felt like
something more.
As I boarded the plane, I justfelt a comfort settle into my
chest.
Yes, the grief was still there,and it was going to be there,
but now it had something elsebeside it, peace.
And maybe that's how our lovedones reach us sometimes.

(04:05):
Not always in grand ways, but ingentle nudges.
And in those moments, weremember they're not really
gone, just waiting ahead for us.
This next story was submitted byTemperance V.
My husband loved birds.
He used to say that if you sitquietly long enough, creation

(04:27):
will speak to you.
Every weekend, he'd sit outsidewith a mug of tea, naming every
bird that landed near us.
His favorite was the blue jay,loud, bold, and always full of
life.
After he passed away, I stoppedfilling the bird feeder.
The backyard was quiet for thosefew months, and I couldn't bring
myself to do it without him.
Then one morning, while I stoodat the kitchen window, a flash

(04:51):
of blue landed on the emptyfeeder.
A blue jay.
It stared right at me, tiltingits head the way he used to.
I felt something shift, like asmall thread had been pulled
through my heart.
I stepped outside, but the birddidn't fly away.
It waited.
I whispered okay and filled thefeeder again.
It started visiting more often,not every day, but always when I

(05:13):
felt the weight of missing himmost.
Some may call it chance, but Icall it grace.
A reminder that even though he'snot physically with me, his love
and the joy we shared stillfound its way back to me.
And this last story wassubmitted by Antonet C.

(05:35):
After my son passed, the housewas so quiet.
And it wasn't just the silence,it was the absence of his
footsteps, his laughter, hislittle voice calling out from
room to room.
I missed it.
He was five, a whirlwind ofenergy and imagination, and one
of his favorite games was hidingtoys in random places under

(05:59):
couch cushions, inside shoes,once even tucked behind the
refrigerator.
I used to find them for weeksafter Christmas or his birthday,
or just at random times when Iwas cleaning the house.
I'd laugh and shake my head andsay, one day you're gonna forget
where you put these.
After the funeral, I began theslow process of sorting through

(06:19):
things.
And one day I was reachingbehind a bookcase to dust,
something I hadn't done in along while, and my hand brushed
against something small andhard.
I pulled it out.
It was a tiny plastic spaceshipfaded from being played with so
often.
His favorite.
He used to call it his zoomy.
I sat on the floor and cried,not in the way I had at the

(06:41):
service or in the long quietnights since he had passed, but
with a sense of peace.
It was like he had left amessage just for me, knowing I'd
find it when I was ready.
I still keep that spaceship onmy dresser.
It's a reminder that he's notlost.
He's just flying somewhere Ican't see.
And that is all that I have foryou today.

(07:02):
If you have received a messagefrom Heaven and would like to
share it with us, you can emailus at podcast at CLECEM.org or
send us a message on our socialmedia.
Have a great day.