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Welcome to Stuff I Learned Yesterday. My name is Darrell Darnell, the oldest idioms still in use today date back between 2,000 and 5,000 BC, and I believe that if you aren’t learning, you aren’t living.
Trusting your gut is an interesting idiom. Afterall, sometimes our gut reaction to something is correct, while other times it’s wrong. Most believe this phrase originates from the feeling we get in our gut when we know something is wrong. Anxiety can cause butterflies in our stomach because like our brain, our gut is full of nerves. In fact, in ancient times, the gut was often referred to as the center of emotions rather than the heart where we place those things today.
Whether it’s your heart, brain, or gut, there’s definitely something to be said about these intuition moments. I’ve used my gut to make thousands of decisions over the course of my life, some of which I was very aware of how my gut played into the decision, and I’m sure many others where it happened so naturally that I didn’t even realize it. I’m sure you’re the same way too.
Today I want to share two stories that haunt me to this day that taught me at a young age the power of being sensitive to your gut.
Both of these stories happened after I’d moved off to college, but before I’d reached my 20th birthday. Let me set the stage.
When I was 19 I was already working at the bookstore. At that time I spent most of my shift near the back of the store. I was in charge of the Bibles and Church Supplies department, which occupied most of the back wall and adjacent corners. The store had two main aisles that ran the entire length of the store from front to back. We also had a large counter setup for imprinting names on Bibles, and when I was positioned at that counter I could look up one of the aisles to the front. In this way I could keep an eye on the register, and quickly make my way up to help when an additional cashier was needed.
One afternoon while working at the Bible imprinting desk I glanced up to see how things were going up front. As was sometimes the case, there was a customer standing in the aisle which prevented me from seeing the front of the store. In those cases, I’d focus my attention back to my work at the counter and check again in a few minutes once the customer had moved on.
However, on that day, something different happened. After I put my head back down to my work, my mind processed the image of what I’d just seen. It was then that I realized the customer had a very unusual look on her face. Realizing this, I quickly looked back up, this time, focusing on the customer instead of trying to look beyond her. What I saw is hard to explain.
Her eyes were locked onto mine and she had a look unlike anything I’d ever seen. Something was clearly not right. I immediately put down my work and headed toward her. As I approached her, her eyes remained locked on mine, and her expression did not change. Unsure of what was going on, I asked her if there was something I could help her with. What she said next was something I never could have predicted.
She opened her mouth but only stammered. After a moment she gathered herself to say, “I’m sorry. You remind me so much of my son I thought you were him for a moment.” “Oh, I see,” I replied. And then she said, “He died over the weekend.”
I was shocked and at a loss on how to respond. Most of what happened next is a foggy memory, to be honest, but I remember expressing my condolences and trying to be sensitive to the moment. She asked my name and told me her son’s name. I wish I could remember what his name was, but I’ve long forgotten it. She didn’t offer any other details and our conversation didn’t last long. It was clearly a difficult moment for her.
A short time later she came in again. This time when we saw each other, we greeted each other with a smile. We spoke for a few minutes, for as long as she needed. She continued to come in and chat with me from time to time over the following weeks and months. In all, I think we spoke four, maybe five times. Each time she’d tell me more about her son and the kind of person he was. I learned he’d been killed in a car accident on the way to church one Sunday morning.
I could tell that each time she came in and talked with me it was healing for her. Mostly I just listened to her tell me about her son and her pain. The shock of when she heard the news and the sadness she felt for a life cut so short. She told me how shocked she was on that first day when she looked up and saw me. She thanked me for being there for her and listening.
After those four or five visits, I never saw her again. I still think about her often and hope that I was everything she needed me to be in that moment. I also wonder what would have happened in her life if I hadn’t trusted my gut and looked back up for a second take.
From the time I was in fifth grade until the end of ninth grade we lived in a rental house on 5 acres of land, and that’s where my second story takes us. Growing up in that house and living down a dirt road didn’t do much for my skateboarding aspirations, but it did give me plenty of space to ride my bike. Within a mile or less in any direction I had about half a dozen friends to hang out with.
But down the hill about a tenth of a mile from our house was a nice little ranch house that sat about a 45 degree angle from the road. The house had a circle drive and a white plank fence that stretched the length of the property along the main road. There was a nice fenced pasture with a horse barn, and when we first moved in, the occupants had a few horses.
The house had a two car garage with a concrete slab and basketball goal. Within the circle drive were a few large shade trees. A creek ran behind the house, so from the back patio you could look out over the oak tree-filled woods.
A young couple named Mark and Donna eventually moved into the house. While they didn’t have any horses, they did have two large St. Bernards: BeBe and CeCe. BeBe and CeCe were the biggest, slobberiest, and (maybe) the friendliest dogs I’d ever met. I’m not sure how to score dogs on a friendly scale. Mark and Donna didn’t have any kids, but my brothers and I loved hanging out there.
Mark was a man’s man with a garage full of tools and a knack for fixing things. Although he was young, he was always ready with a life lesson or nugget of wisdom. I’ll share some of those in future episodes. We didn’t spend as much time hanging out with Donna, but she was always super nice too. Our time hanging out with them often involved the basketball goal, dogs, or my favorite thing, their computer. It was the first computer I ever had some sort of regular access to, and I loved spending time on it!
Eventually we moved into town, so that was the end of my experience with them. But for those few years we occupied neighboring houses, I loved having them in my life.
Much to my surprise, when I started working at the bookstore about four years later, Donna worked there too! We were both very excited to be reconnected, and Mark even stopped by the store one day to see me. Eventually Donna turned in her notice and told us they were moving back to where they’d grown up in either Ohio or Indiana.
My college roommate was a guy named Charles. Charles and I had gone to high school together and become great friends. Coincidentally, he had moved into a house that was also about a tenth of a mile away from our house. The only bad part was, he’d moved in after I’d moved to town.
I remember telling Charles about Mark and Donna a few times, but he’d never met them. To be fair, even though they lived less than half a mile from each other, their houses were separated by Route 66 and since they had no kids, I don’t know why Charles would have ever had reason to cross paths with them.
One day Charles and I were back in our hometown visiting, and I couldn’t shake thoughts of Mark and Donna. I remember mentioning them several times during our trip. As we got in the car to head home, I asked Charles if he minded if we stopped by their house and told him I’d like to introduce them. He was more than happy to oblige.
We made our way westward on Route 66 until we came to the dirt road I once called home. As we rounded the corner and started down the hill toward Mark and Donna’s house, I noticed something in their yard. No, I noticed someONE in their yard. As we pulled into the circle drive there beneath the shade of the elm trees, sat Donna, an unknown woman, and CeCe.
As Charles and I made our way toward them, Donna looked up at me. She was surprised to see me, and gave me a smile, but her eyes told me it was forced. I introduced her to Charles and she introduced us to the other woman who was with her. The other woman was a veterinarian.
There between them lay CeCe who was clearly not well. They explained that BeBe had died a few weeks earlier and CeCe was so heartbroken that she was dying too. She’d basically stopped eating and drinking and her health had deteriorated to the point that they had no choice but to put her down. Donna sat there weeping as the vet injected the shot that would end CeCe’s heartache. We all sat there in silence as the life faded from CeCe and her suffering came to an end.
After checking with Donna, the vet packed up her gear and left. Charles and I just sat there with Donna in the dirt shaded by elms and comforted her as she grieved. Once Donna was ready, we stood up, gave her a comforting hug, and said goodbye. She let us know that Mark would be home soon and he would lay CeCe to rest next to the spot they buried BeBe a short time earlier.
Here’s what I learned.
From time to time (very rare) my kids will ask me to share a story from my life; an on the spot SILY episode if you will. I remember the day we were in the car and I shared these stories with them similarly to how I’ve shared them with you today. They were both amazed by these stories and I’m still amazed they are part of my life.
Both of these stories are tragic in their own way and both have shaped me in profound ways. I think because the story with Donna involved following my intuition to go out of my way, it has hit me differently over the years. I remember what it felt like that day when she was on my mind and it impacted me in a very tangible way that I’ll share with you in an episode early next year.
You may call it following your gut, intuition, a sixth sense, inner voice, a hunch, or even a prompting from the Holy Spirit. Whatever you call it, we all have it. Something that speaks to our innermost feelings at random times that leads us and nudges us to act in ways that aren’t always explainable based on the facts that we know in that given moment.
Maybe it’s a moment when you see someone having car trouble or asking for money on a street corner. Other times it’s an internal prompting to open up the Bible or visit a church. Yet other times it’s in reading someone’s expression or a feeling to take a different path home.
When these moments hit me, I’ve learned not to quickly brush them aside. Instead, take a moment to pray and ponder what they mean, and then move in that direction. Sometimes they lead to nothing or things we don’t see, and other times, we end up being the exact thing needed to help someone going through a very difficult day.
I’m Darrell Darnell, and this has been Stuff I Learned Yesterday.
I want you to be a part of the next Monday Mailbag on December 30th! Monday Mailbag is your opportunity to Share what YOU’VE learned, so that other listeners and I can learn from YOU. It can be a message as short as 30 seconds or several minutes long. It really doesn’t matter just as long as it’s something that will benefit others. You can send in questions or responses to my SILY episodes, and I’ll respond to them via Monday Mailbag episodes. You can participate in Monday Mailbags by visiting the Golden Spiral Media listener feedback page.