Yesterday was an 11:11 kind of day. I get that a lot of people (and whether he admits it or not, my husband is one of them) think that I am a bit of a loon when it comes to this "sign" from Rip, I get a lot of sympathetic nods when I try to explain...aka "the poor dear, someone clearly needs to up her medication". But there are some things I just can't explain. Yesterday, the number 1111 popped up at least a dozen times, at one point someone sent me at email at 11:07, but the time stamp read 11:11. And yes, I asked if his clock was off, it wasn't.
I felt somewhat justified the other night when Parke and I were watching an Olympic special (which, by the way, I am so excited about the Olympics I can hardly stand it, but I digress) and a story about gold medalist, track and field star Florence Joyner, or "Flo-Jo", came on. My heart nearly stopped (and I may or may not have stuck out my tongue at Parke) when her husband and daughter said that, since her death, they feel that she checks on them almost every day with her World Record winning time of 10:49. Her daughter said that it is almost eerie, every day at least once a day she sees that number and feels her mother's presence.
Then this morning I was reading my daily devotional, Jesus Calling, and this line jumped out at me:
There is no limit to the variety of ways I can communicate with you. Your part is to be attentive to my messages, in whatever form they come.
I don't know if my "eleven eleven"s are Rip speaking to me, or God speaking to me, telling me that my boy is okay, that I am going to be okay...but does it really matter? All I know is that I see those numbers and I feel at peace. And hey, if it's good enough for Flo Jo...