How important is "listening" when you hear nothing?
Many of you have requested that I write about Elijah, and while it's rather personal to me, I will attempt to explain it in a more spiritual context. How important is listening when you hear more than you'd like from those around you? Is it still important if you're constantly bombarded with things you'd rather not hear? How about if you wanted to listen to what the Universe is saying to you, but you could hear nothing at all?
There have been so many instances in my life and in my readings with all of you when I genuinely felt that you had not "heard me". The Universe would say to me, "Jenny, you have to let him go" or "Vicki, you have to stop worrying", or "Client in Texas, stop worrying, you will indeed conceive a child the moment you're supposed to", and I'd relay the message, assuming you were not hearing me or understanding. I'd not receive much response, therefore, I assume you didn't "hear me".
You'd call me back a week later to say, "Ok, I stopped worrying and I actually did what Spirit suggested and it worked!", or "I lost the weight and I am ready to get pregnant and I know it's going to happen now!" or "I let him go as Spirit said in our last call, and now he's back even more!". There would be a few seconds worth of silence for me to process the fact that you HEARD ME. Even when I thought you had not, you were silently processing, listening and following through!
This is what happens with my sweet eight month old, Elijah. I look at him, talk to him, sing to him, watch him day in and day out in hopes of him responding to my voice or "hearing me". His doctors have recently confirmed that he doesn't hear a single word we say. He's had surgery to correct the issue, and we wait on pins and needles in hopes of a cure, and in hopes of the day when he will "hear us", meanwhile, he's probably "hearing us" in his own little way throughout all of the hospital visits, the surgery, the tests, the fevers, the infections, etc.
Today, at the very end of the day, I said to him, "I love you, and I know you hear me" as I was rocking him to sleep. He tilted his head up a bit, smiled with closed eyes, and then dozed off to sleep. I gently placed him into his crib, tucked him in close to his favorite stuffed bear, and cried there in the silence of his nursery. I don't know if he heard me the way I wish to be heard (with his physical ears), but he heard me in his own way, and I saw the results of that listening.
It's the same with each and every one of you. I share what Spirit has to say, and there are times when I don't think you are hearing me, but you are! Today, I had that wonderful moment in time with one of you, when I know you heard me. And I sat there after our call and with tears of joy and gratitude, I cried.