As a deer longs for flowing streams,
so my soul longs for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
PSALM 42:1–2
Margaret gave my arm a playful squeeze. “My rather sudden appearance here this morning prevented you from having your morning coffee, Jenn, a treat I know you dearly enjoy. Why don’t you go inside and pour yourself a cup? And while you are at it, bring me one, too.”
Her eyes sparkled in amusement as she witnessed my astonished reaction. An angel who drinks coffee? I hurried inside and poured two fresh cups of my favorite dark roast. Hannah and Isabel, my other two dogs, followed me back outside. After giving our angelic visitor curious sniffs and friendly tail wags, they wandered off into the yard.
Margaret and I sat together, sipping our coffee and watching the morning backyard activity. Birds hopped from feeder to feeder, and a wary squirrel worked his way down the tree above the birdbath. Comically, he craned his neck to peek around the tree to see where the dogs were roaming in the yard. Confident that their backs were turned, he took his big chance and leapt the rest of the way onto the birdbath, where he took a long drink of water.
We burst into laughter as we watched him finish up and leap back onto the tree, scampering high up into the branches, safe and sound.
“I am amazed, Margaret,” I said shaking my head, “at how these creatures have such good instincts. That little squirrel knew he needed water, knew where to find it, and also knew to avoid the danger the three dogs posed to him.”
“Where do you think this instinct comes from?” asked Margaret.
“Well, I don’t know. I never really thought about it,” I mused. “I guess it has just always been there.”
“This instinct, Jenn, is lovingly provided to each creature the moment God creates it, so that it will have the knowledge it needs to survive. Humans are given that same gift. An instinct leading them back to the Creator who loves and provides for them. You have sensed this instinct, or this connection, to your Creator in your own life, haven’t you?” she asked.
“I have,” I replied thoughtfully. “As a young girl, I sensed I came from somewhere else, even though my conscious mind did not remember where. It was a sense of belonging to something special, much larger than me—larger and, at the same time, intensely intimate and loving. I’ve never completely lost this sense of belonging, though at times in my life I have experienced what I would call momentary breaks, which have caused me great distress.”
My angel gave me a knowing look. “My dear, those episodes of distress were telling you that your connection to God is what you need to survive. It is the instinct of the soul to stay connected to its Creator. And when this connection breaks through to the human consciousness, it creates the desire to seek a relationship with God.
“Scripture says my soul longs for and thirsts for God. Isn’t that a beautiful way to describe this desire to connect with your Creator? In my experience, when people begin to ask the questions ‘Who am I?’ and ‘What is my purpose here?’ they are beginning to thirst, to sense a connection to something greater than themselves. Do you want to know a secret, dear one?” I nodded as I listened intently to her. “They are beginning to sense their heavenly origin.”
Margaret’s comment suddenly reminded me of a favorite description of our heavenly beginnings. “I once read a statement that said although we began our existence as citizens of heaven, we have forgotten where we came from, and Jesus came to help us remember and to lead us back.
“I love this description because I really like the idea of being a ‘citizen of heaven’ first and a citizen of earth second.”
Margaret laughed. “Well, as a citizen of heaven, my dear child, I certainly can understand why that would be an appealing thought. You know, young children have some of the best testimonies about their heavenly citizenship, because many retain their memories of heaven for a short time during childhood.”
This statement sparked a deep and privately held conviction of mine that children can and do have fleeting memories of an existence that precedes their birth.
“People close to me have shared stories that confirm the very thing you are talking about, Margaret,” I said. “A five-year-old boy, an only child, repeatedly asked his parents where his two sisters were, insisting that he already knew them. Additional children were not planned, so imagine their surprise when his parents eventually did have two more children . . . both girls. And then there is the testimony of a three-year-old girl who described to her mother in detail the fluid warmth of her mother’s womb and the presence from heaven that kept her comforted and reassured throughout the months leading up to her birth. I wonder, is it possible that guardian angels begin their work while we are being ‘knit together in our mother’s wombs?’ ” I shot a questioning look at my angel.
Margaret raised her eyebrows and gave me a mysterious smile but did not answer. In the space of her silence, I took a long, slow sip of coffee and let these last thoughts sink in. It is intriguing to consider our humble existence here on earth is, in fact, only part of a much more expansive existence. Oh, how I wish I could have retained my memories of heaven.
“Jennifer,” Margaret said quietly, startling me out of my thoughts, “do you see those three sweet little blond heads popping up over the fence in the back of your yard?”
I looked way to the back of the yard, following her gaze, and sure enough, three little blond heads bobbed up and down. I could just barely hear their squeals of delight as these little girls jumped on their backyard trampoline.
Margaret smiled as she watched the children. Their long golden tresses seemed to float in the air with their bouncy, up-and-down motions. Then she whispered, “Even the hairs of your head are all numbered.”
I looked over at Margaret, puzzled.
“Dear one,” she replied softly, “our Father in heaven loves each of his children so very much. And, yes, he knows you so intimately that he has even counted the hairs on your head. Every single person who has walked this earth began their journey in heaven, and each of you has been lovingly and joyfully bounced on our Father’s knee. Before he sent you into this world, he whispered something special into your ear, something meant for you and you alone. Even though a veil has been placed over your conscious memory of heaven, your soul remembers God’s special whisper. This memory may very well be what you experienced as a young girl when you felt the connection to something intimate and loving.”
“I love that,” I said, goose bumps forming up and down my arms. “When you put it that way, it sounds as if God began talking to us even before we were born.”
“Oh, he did indeed.” Margaret smiled knowingly. “Listen to what God told the prophet Jeremiah when he called him into service: ‘Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.’ ”
Margaret’s eyes gleamed as she watched amazement creep across my face as I absorbed these words and the truth behind them.
She continued. “Jennifer, when you sensed that you came from somewhere else, you were correct. During this time of awakening in your young life, your soul continued to hear echoes of God’s voice as he called to you from across the veil of the heavenly realm. And this is what he was saying:
“Remember my whisper. You have been mine from the beginning.”
Then my angel friend stood and gracefully brushed the folds from her gown. “Let’s take a break for a moment. I want to pour myself another cup of coffee, and I will bring one for you, too. While you wait, sit here and let your precious soul reconnect with God’s whisper. I’ll be right back!”