The Moment
It started at a Thai restaurant.
A small group—pastor, elders, a close friend, her family. I had only been to that church once before. On this occasion, I was asked to share my testimony.
Halfway through lunch, I went silent.
Not because I had nothing to say—but because something interrupted me mid-thought. Not externally. Internally. A sentence formed, complete and uninvited.
I didn’t say it. Instead, I made a quiet decision:
If someone else says it first, I’ll speak.
One word: Silver.
The Confirmation
As the thought crossed my mind, the pastor spoke—casually, almost as an aside: Someone had donated silver that morning.
That was it.
No buildup. No emphasis. Just… the statement of a fact.
But the timing was exact.
Close enough that it didn’t feel like coincidence.
Clean enough that it didn’t feel accidental.
I shared this with the table:
If something happens on SUNDAY…
Buy silver on MONDAY…
You’ll undetstand on TUESDAY…
The Recording
Days passed.
But the sentence didn’t.
It stayed with me—unchanged, persistent. Not loud, but steady. Like something waiting to be acknowledged.
Later that week, as I was driving and the sun was setting, I remembered the urgency—not panic, just weight. The kind that doesn’t explain itself but also doesn’t leave.
So I pulled out my phone and recorded what I heard.
No interpretation came with it.
No timeline.
No explanation.
Just the sequence.
I Thought I Missed It
The next week passed.
Nothing obvious happened.
No clear “Sunday.” No signal I could point to.
It felt like I had missed the moment entirely. But I didn’t delete the recording.
I kept it—because something about it felt unfinished.
Not wrong. Just… early.
What I Didn’t Know Yet
At the time, this felt isolated.
A strange, precise phrase tied to a moment I couldn’t place.
What I didn’t realize was that it would come back—again and again—in different places, different years, with increasing clarity.
Not changing.
Just sharpening.
Continue to 2022 →
In 2022, the phrase returned—shorter, sharper, and with a single word that changed how I heard all of it: “Skyrocket.”
There are patterns that only reveal themselves over time—where a phrase, a set of dreams, and a sequence of days begin to align around a single moment.
Sunday. Monday. Tuesday.
Not random. Not repeated by accident.
A signal—still forming, still narrowing, still pointing forward.
I’m Gr8ful.
