Over recent years, I’ve come to realize that I have a fairly good sense of intuition. (Obviously not about everything.) Sometimes the sense of intuition is about odd things — for several years I had a bizarre sense about who would win in the Stanley Cup playoffs, before I ever knew anything about hockey. One time, I even dreamed about what exactly would happen in a playoff series, and over the next week, it came true. Unfortunately, it was about Ken’s favorite team being swept in the first round of the playoffs. It took him a while for him to forgive me for that. Regrettably, the more I know about hockey, the worse my intuition becomes.
Sometimes intuition comes into play about quite serious things. For instance, when I was working in dermatology, I did hospital rounds every day. (Yes. Dermatologists do hospital rounds). And there were times when I knew that my patients were not expected to live much longer, and there was nothing we could do to intervene. In every case in which my patients passed away, I knew it the instant when it happened, even though I was away from the hospital. Sometimes I would be driving down the road, or at home, or in the clinic, and I would get an overwhelming sense that I needed to pray for that patient. I would pray fervently, until I felt a sense of peace and relief. When I would eventually go to the hospital, often not until the next day, sure enough, the patient would have passed away — at the very time I had the overwhelming sense to pray for them. It happened each time one of my patients passed away.
I’ve realized that whenever God brings someone to mind, my best course of action is to pray for them. I’ve realized that the sense of intuition is often the Holy Spirit (although not always, unless He has a keen interest in hockey), and is worth paying attention to.
On the morning of Maundy Thursday, I had another deep sense of the Holy Spirit speaking to me when I heard this song as I was driving to work. I had heard it before, but this time the song resounded in my soul. I knew that the Holy Spirit was speaking and needed me to hear the words and remember them. I also sensed that the song was about to become very important to me. I hated that — it meant that something bad was about to happen. And I would find out only hours later that I was right.
Sure enough, after the events of the day, the song continued to play loudly in my mind. I would wake to its sound in the morning, and fall asleep to the same. I needed the reminder that in some strange way, the events that made my world crumble were adding strength to my relationship with the One who made my world to begin with. I was challenged to reach the point at which whatever difficulties God leads me through are welcome blessings, even if they are disguised in cloaks of pain and darkness.
I’m thankful that the Holy Spirit began to speak to me before I even knew I needed Him to. I’m thankful for songwriters who understand that God’s blessings aren’t always what we ask for or want. Most of all, I’m thankful for Blessings in Disguise.