Who Said That?

“Tell him not to go.”

The tone of the voice I heard inside my head was calm and matter-of-fact, much different from the fretful thoughts taking up the rest of my mind at that moment. It was late, and everyone was tucked in their beds and sleeping. Everyone but me, that is.

My husband and a co-worker were scheduled to drive nearly 100 miles early the next morning to a work site and return home either late that night or the next day. It was terrible timing, as it was four days until Christmas. We still had holiday preparations to complete, and I would have to finish most of those alone with my rambunctious, inquisitive children–ages four and two–“helping.” More than the inconvenience, though, was my concern about safety on the roads; the temperatures were forecast to drop steadily as precipitation changed from rain to sleet, and possibly to snow.

When I “heard” those words, I was torn. On the one hand, it felt like the best thing to do, and the idea of following the direction brought me a feeling of relief. But right away, another part of my mind started arguing and resisting: He’s asleep right now! I can’t wake him up to tell him that. If I tell him, he’ll ignore the warning (because that’s how I perceived it) and say he has to go because it’s for work and his co-worker and others are counting on him. If I tell him some voice inside my head told me to tell him not to go, he’ll think I’m crazy and/or overreacting to my concerns. So, I told myself I’d tell him in the morning when we woke up.

Though I did eventually fall asleep, my uneasiness translated to a lot of tossing and turning. At one point in the night, I woke up alone in bed and saw that my husband’s pillows were gone. That told me he’d left to sleep on the couch because I was disturbing him.

The next thing I knew, morning light was filling the windows, the kids were awake, and my husband had already left the house. Even though I was pretty sure he and his colleague were already on the road, I called his office to see if the plans had changed. Nope. They were on their way, as far as anyone there knew. (Mind you, this was 1983; our only phones were land lines.)

So, the kids and I started our day and went out to shop for last-minute holiday things. By the time we got home we were all feeling out of sorts. Okay, we were all downright crabby, and I was feeling pressured by hangry babies to get lunch made, on the table, and into their mouths and bellies.

Midway through spreading peanut butter on bread, the phone rang. Annoyed at the interruption, I answered it curtly. The woman on the other end mispronounced my name badly, leading me to assume it was a phone solicitation. Only half listening, I let her ramble on as I finished making sandwiches. At one point I heard her say “hospital” and was about to tell her we didn’t have any extra money we could donate to the cause, when she repeated herself (because clearly, she could tell I wasn’t giving her my full attention).

She was telling me that my husband had been in a car accident, was in critical condition, and was being sent via Life Flight from the small hospital where she worked to a larger hospital 50 miles away.

I couldn’t believe this was happening, yet I was also unsurprised because I had, after all, been warned. I flew into action, phoning family to pass the news and making arrangements with local friends to provide overnight childcare. I’m actually fairly clear-headed in times of crisis.

But underneath all the arranging and planning was a deep sense of guilt because I had failed to keep my self-made end of the bargain; I had not told my husband not to go.

I’ll skip over the details of the horrific accident, of my husband’s severe injuries (the injuries of his co-worker–the driver of the car they were in–were minor), of his month in the hospital, of the generosity of friends who took turns caring for our kids in their homes every day while I drove the 25 miles each way to see my husband, and of his prolonged recovery at home after being discharged from the hospital.

Decades later, I was told that the voice of our intuition and/or our spirit guides is always calm, without any sense of anger, fear, or even elation. It simply conveys a truth without any strong emotion. That is exactly how I had perceived the delivery of the message I was given, even though I had been feeling plenty of emotions at the time.

I still wonder: Who said that? Where did that instruction/advice/warning come from? Was it from my higher, wiser, intuitive self? A spirit guide? A guardian angel? Spirit Itself? I don’t have a definitive answer, but I know for certain that it came from somewhere outside of my ordinary consciousness.

I wonder if my husband would have heeded the message, if only I had said it. My guess is that he wouldn’t have, but in heeding the direction I could have spared myself the burden of guilt for not trying to prevent his leaving town that day.

Just a few years ago, we were returning  home in the nighttime and encountered very heavy fog. My husband was driving. There was a choice of two routes: one was on the main road with lights from traffic signals, storefront signs, and streetlamps, while the other was the “scenic route” that my husband usually preferred because of its lack of car traffic and traffic lights. As we approached that point of choice, I heard that same calm, clear, matter-of-fact voice say, “Tell him to stay on the main road.” This time, I listened and heeded the direction. When I suggested we stay on the main road, he made no comment, but he did so. I’m happy to report that we arrived home without incident, and I’m even happier to report that I have learned to trust that voice.

Have you experienced premonitions and/or guidance from outside your conscious awareness? If so, what happened? Where do you suppose the information came from? Please share below!