A Sign From God

I got kicked in the head by the Universe today. Here's what happened:

A large part of a writer's life is waiting to hear from the world of publishing and agents. I have been waiting for six months to hear from one particular agent. Sometimes I'm in the zone and mellow with it all. Other times, the frustration builds like magma under the earth. I've been in the heart of the volcano lately, despite all the repeated guidance from my Tarot deck to surrender, to be patient, to let go, that my harvest will come.

So, this morning I'm writing in my journal about the frustration of it all, how I just want someone out there to acknowledge that this writing life is the life I'm meant to lead, that I want a sign, I want a call to let me know I'm on the right path. I am completely worked up, calling God out, spoiling for a fight. I am filled with righteous, driven indignation that I haven't been called yet by that agent.

Then I wax metaphorical about how getting "the call" is no longer au courant because of email, texting and IMing, that the likelihood of getting a "call" from God about one's purpose in life is slim because God no longer hits people with lightning bolts like Saul on the way to Damascus to wake them up to their right livelihood, that my history with God is more like reading a series of small signs in the forest, a broken twig here, a crushed berry there. Then, to mix my metaphors, I write that my way of getting divine direction is when God throws up road blocks that force me to turn and go a different direction altogether, until all I'm left with is the current road I'm travelling with no turnoffs in sight.

By this point I'm crying and I'm late for yoga but I figure it'll be good for me to go so I hop in the car, zip through the neighborhood and turn onto the main drag where I am promptly stopped by a police officer for speeding. Yup. Second speeding ticket in six months after 30 years of speeding and no tickets. Who says God doesn't have a sense of humor? She's laughing at me up there saying, "You wanted a sign, Missy? Well, here's a sign for you--SLOW DOWN!"

Now, signs are only recognizable to those for whom they are intended so don't bother to comment on all the rational explanations for this experience. The way it felt is that I opened the channels to the universe this morning through my prayerful journal writing, I asked for a sign, and I got one. It was not the sign I wanted, of course. Being told to mellow out is like a red flag to a bull. But, the advice is consistent with all the other divinatory tools I've had at my disposal so I'm taking it as a message from God to slow down and chill out.

I'll let you know how it goes.