Once upon a time

Just the other day

I had a divine prompting

To change an appointment.

And by the end of the night

I was so glad I listened.

The nudge to change the time

Came quietly

Like a repeated whisper.

And it came on the heels

Of another whisper.

The first one

Came that afternoon.

I was reminded

Inspired

To refocus my efforts

To respond to an invitation.

An invitation

To more clearly recognize

Personal revelation.

An invitation given

Back in April 2018

By President Russel M. Nelson:

“Write the thoughts

That come to your mind.

Record your feelings

and follow through

with actions

that you are prompted to take.”

And so I acted

And changed my appointment

And then went to my room

And pulled out my prayer journal

And sat on my bed

Dutifully writing down

All the thoughts I’d had that day

To see what would come of them

In the future.

I wrote about how

As prompted,

I changed my temple appointment.

Instead of a quick

30-minute appointment

I changed it

To a 90-minute appointment

At a later time.

With curiosity,

I wondered if it might be

For my benefit.

Maybe I needed

More peace

More calm

More time

To spend in prayer and meditation.

Or maybe the reason

Was for the benefit

Of someone else.

Maybe even someone

I didn’t know.

But had a feeling

That someday

Probably far in the future

I would know

The reason why.

I had just finished

Writing that down

And I heard

A door to the house

Open.

My family was at

A football game.

Had it ended early?

I wondered.

My cute blue-eyed

Adult son –

(Well, toddler-adult

Because he’s 21 now.

At age 18,

I tell them

They are baby-adults) –

Appeared in the doorway

Of my bedroom

Where I was sitting

On the side my bed

Where I had been writing.

He had just gotten off work

And stopped by our house

On his way to his apartment.

He looked distraught.

Pacing,

He told me

He was exhausted

From not enough sleep

That week

And he had dozed off

While driving

On the freeway

And had collided

With a road sign.

He was okay,

He said,

But his passenger mirror

Was not.

Visibly shaken,

He collapsed into tears

Beside me

On my bed,

His head

Near my knee

Where I sat.

And as I smoothed his hair

And wiped his tears away

While he cried,

I had the unmistakable thought:

HE WAS THE REASON.

My son

Was the reason

For the divine whisper

To change my appointment

For that evening.

So that I could be there

At that very moment.

For when

He sought me out

In his distress.

As I processed this

And all that my son had told me,

All I said in that moment was:

“It will all be okay.

I’m so glad you’re safe.”

And I thought back

To what I had just written down,

And marveled

About how quickly

I had learned the reason why.

Eventually his tears subsided.

Even more tired now,

He drifted off to sleep.

I didn’t dare move

For fear of waking him

From much-needed rest.

So I continued to write

And ponder

What had just transpired.

Gratitude enveloped me.

A few minutes later

He woke up

And realized he was hungry.

And I was

Once again

Grateful

That I was there.

I made him a sandwich.

While he ate,

I told him

He should know

That I was not

Supposed to be home

That night

When he got to the house.

I told him

He should know

How mindful God was of him

And his car

And his needs.

That He had protected him

In ways we didn’t fully understand

From potential outcomes

That we didn’t fully know.

I knew it was true.

It was the same voice

And feeling

As the one

That whispered

And invited me

To change my appointment.

After he finished eating,

Together we vacuumed

The bits of glass

That were scattered

On the seats

Of his car.

And we marveled again

That he was safe.

His windows had been rolled down

Or possibly,

The entire window

Would have shattered too.

Not one piece of glass

Got in his eyes.

Miraculously

He hadn’t collided

With anyone else,

Or swerved off the road

Or wrecked his car.

The side mirror that was dangling

By a wire

Let me know

In no uncertain terms

That it could have been

So much worse.

And it wasn’t.

I’m so grateful

That God whispered.

And that I listened

And acted

So that I could be there;

To console him.

To make him a sandwich.

To help him clean out his car.

To vacuum up the glass.

And I’m so grateful

That he’s okay.

And that evening

As I went to bed,

I thought about God

Whispering

And inviting me

Earlier that day

“Maybe write this down”

And then

“Maybe change your appointment.”

And I imagined His patience

As I wrote and wondered

With curiosity and anticipation

The reason(s) why;

And how He knew then

How quickly

I would find out.

And how

He also knew then

Of my prayer of gratitude

That I would offer

That evening.

And I imagined

God’s response

As He witnessed

My realization

Of what

He really meant.

When He said

To write it down

And change my appointment,

He was really inviting:

“Come and be part of a miracle.”

And whispering:

“You’re going to be so glad

You didn’t miss this.”