A few years ago, I attended a baby shower in Cambridge. It was a couples shower, filled with men and women from the ward, and it was a jovial affair. At some point, the conversation shifted to naming, and one man confessed that he had heard his baby’s name in a dream. After detailing the experience, he became a bit sheepish and said, “I guess that sounds a bit fantastic.”
“Hey,” came a response, “We’re Mormons – we believe in magic.”
More and more I believe in magic – in fantastic, unexplainable blessings from unlikely sources.
This month, my husband and I have been engaged in making serious decisions about our future. Big Adult Decisions. The kind we can’t completely control. In the middle of this angst-filled month, I read my husband his monthly horoscope as a joke (the really long one at astrologyzone.com). Rather unexpectedly, its accuracy up to that point in the month was unsettlingly accurate, down to dates and little details. And according to Astrology Lady, the month would be long and hard until this week when (in very specific ways) circumstances would turn beautifully in his favor. “Well, then there’s hope,” we joked. And today hope was realized, much as Astrology Lady described, and it feels magical.
What do I make of all this? I’m sold on something – and that something isn’t astrology. This reinforces my belief that God (and ministering angels) will speak to us however they can – scriptures falling open to the “right” page, a stranger’s kindness on the subway, a vivid dream, a song on the radio, a stunning sunset, a call from a friend at the right time, a comment in church, running into to your visiting teacher at the store on a day when you need a listening ear, a billboard, a blog post, a horoscope, a Star Trek episode (don’t ask).
Clearly this particular horoscope couldn’t have matched every Zodiac of his sign out there . . . but I don’t usually read this stuff (and when I do, I never read it to my husband!). I did this month. So I’ll take it as a bit of benevolent cosmic humor, a spiritual “Chin up, little camper. We are looking out for you.” Who am I to limit magic’s mediums? Whatever it is, I’m grateful.