I'm back. It felt more like a few hours than seven whole days, but as promised I have returned to the online world.
I have a story. It's weird. It's a little creepy. It's a little cool. If you think you already heard it, think again. I haven't told anyone the end of the story. Not even MacGyver. So read on. After you look at my really weird picture from the farmhouse at Slate Run Metropark. I have stared at this picture a lot and never been able to explain the big white vortex in the middle. It wasn't there when I took the picture. Someone ruin all my fun and tell me that it's a completely normal camera malfunction or a trick of light. Go ahead.
Anyway, my weird story. A little background. You wouldn't expect a Dominion home slapped together in 1987 would really have that much character that it could boast a weird happening or two. But our run-of-the-mill suburban home has some sort of secret that I have not even begun to figure out in the ten years I have been here.
I'm not going to go into past experiences, because it's 12:15 a.m. and the house is completely quiet and I won't be able to sleep if I get myself all creeped out. I'll save the stories for sometime when it is the blazing hot middle of the day and there are 17,000 children running about.
But anyway, my story from last week during my internet-fast. I went upstairs one night to get ready for bed. I came into my room and immediately noticed that my alarm was set.
This was odd because I did not set my alarm. The kids had not been upstairs since the last time I had been and I didn't think they had done it. MacGyver hadn't touched it, he said. I shrugged and turned it off, being careful to note that the switch had been completely turned to the off position because I did not care to be woken up at 7:15 am if it was not necessary. I went to the bathroom. I came back about 30 seconds later.
IT WAS BACK ON.
MacGyver had been on the other side of the room the entire time. Unless he did it by telepathy, it would have been impossible. The only other person in the room was Baby J, and he doesn't quite have the skills to have pulled that off, unless he's REALLY holding out on us.
So I checked the position of the switch to see if I had just somehow not pulled it forward enough, but it was completely locked in the on position once again.
NOW the story I didn't tell anyone else. The night before, I had a really bad night. The kids were completely out of control and MacGyver was annoying the socks off of me, not that I was wearing any. I specifically remember one point in the evening just staring heavenward and sighing. "I need to know you love me, Lord. I need to know someone loves me."
I know, a fairly infantile thing to say. I got past it and went about my business for the next day until the weird occurrence with the alarm clock. Later that night, as I was telling my sister about it, she conveyed what my brother-in-law said when she told him.
"Leave it on."
I laughed, but then I started to think about it. What if there were a reason my alarm clock had been turned on not once, but twice? Maybe there was something I needed to be up for at 7:15 a.m.
So I turned it back on.
At 7:15 a.m., these were the words I heard.
"I love you. I want you to know. I love you - I'll never let you go."
It was the song "By Your Side" by Tenth Avenue North. And every time I hear it now I smile.
But just because this particular experience can probably be attributed to the divine, we still have a really weird house.
Glad to be back!
