Guardian Spirit

For the last couple of weeks at two separate campgrounds and four different bathrooms, it seems whenever I am having a spiritual discussion with myself (usually in my head), a bathroom sink comes on or a toilet flushes—in an empty stall.

I first noticed it at West Lake Park.  Now granted they are motion-detector sinks and toilets, but I was always alone in the bathroom at the time.

Yesterday, I had a little emotional meltdown over a small thing that felt like a big hurt.  We stopped at Jumer’s to use the bathroom and have a drink.  I was upset, had been crying in the car.  The bar turned out to be closed, but I used the bathroom anyway.  And while I was sitting in the stall, I heard the sink turn on for a few seconds and then turn off.  I thought again it was one of those motion detector sinks.  But when I got out and went to wash my hands, I learned that it was a manually controlled faucet.  In other words, someone had to put their hands on it to make it work.  But there was nobody there.

Tonight, I went to the bathroom here in Scott County Park to wash the dishes.  I had had the others sinks turning on during dish-washing sessions, when I was nowhere near them.  In fact to make the water turn on in those automatic sinks, you have to make a special effort to even get them to turn on!

After a good weekend of receiving great information and contact from the other side, I merely laughed this time when the water in the sink farthest away from me turned itself on for a few seconds. 

“That’s from spirit, isn’t it?” I asked aloud.

The second sink turned on, then off.

“Is that you, Dad?”  I asked.  Nothing.  “Grandma?”  Again, nothing.  I listed a litany of crossed-over family and friends and got no response.  Then I asked if it was Gabriel, or Pedro—spirits that have been identified by Wendy as my angel and a guardian spirit.

With no response, I returned to my dish-washing duties.  I glanced at myself in the mirror and noticed that my face looked leaner, prettier. 

“Well, I think I’m losing weight!”

The farthest sink turned on.  I felt like I was having a conversation.

“Who are you?  Are you a spirit that lives here?”

No response. 

“Did you follow me from West Lake?”  I had received strong impressions at West Lake of a fur trader who died there.

Silence.

“Are you one of my guardian spirits?”

From the back of the building came the sound of the toilet flushing!  And it flushed for a long time—maybe 15 or 20 seconds. 

Every hair on my body stood up and I felt a brief moment of the kind of awe that almost makes you feel afraid.  I looked at myself in the mirror before me.  My eyes were wide with astonishment, my mouth agape. Must be a big spirit.

As I washed the rest of the dishes, I returned to my thoughts earlier today, my fears of this being a similar life situation to being homeless in Phoenix. 

“No,” I said to myself. “This is NOT like that.  This is a different experience.  I’m a different person now.”

And the sink came on again.

“Thank you,” I told my guardian.  “It really is different, now isn’t it?”  And the other sink came on.  I was clearly in communication with an intelligent and responsive entity. 

I thanked her for her comfort and support and while I don’t yet know her name (or even her gender, if she has one), I know she is there, here, with me, over me, with love. Amazing.