Whispers from the Divine.
How a £1.50 Purchase Reignited My Hope.
Yesterday morning, I woke up cloaked in sadness. It wasn't the kind of sadness that announces itself with tears or a clear reason—it was quiet, heavy, and vague. I felt despondent and moody, like I had been carrying an invisible weight through the night and it followed me into the morning. I couldn't put my finger on why I felt that way, which somehow made it worse. When you don’t know the source of your sadness, you can’t reason with it or work through it. You can only sit with it. Or fight it.
But I got out of bed. Slowly, but I did it. I did my sit-ups. I had a shower. I brushed my teeth. Small victories, but they felt like mountains climbed in that state of mind. I left the house, headed to the bus stop, and took myself to the town centre’s Saturday market. I thought maybe fresh fruit and vegetables would lift my spirits. Something about being around life—colourful produce, the bustle of people—can sometimes break through the fog.
On my way home, I passed by Poundland, which is right next to the bus stop. Something nudged me to go inside. I didn’t need anything specific, but I had some change in my pocket and thought I’d just have a look. They were having a sale, and that’s when I found them—a soft T-shirt and a pair of shorts, together for £1.50. I was drawn in by the colours: different shades of blue, like the sky and the sea having a conversation. I didn’t even look at what was printed on the shirt. I just liked how they made me feel—calm, clean, connected to something larger.
It wasn’t until I got home, after the clothes had been through the wash and I was ironing them, that I noticed the message on the T-shirt. There, in soft, almost glowing letters, were the words: “Open your mind. Your future is bright.” And on the label: Beloved Woman.
I paused. I stared. I felt the lump rise in my throat—the kind that comes not from pain, but from recognition. I knew this was not just a random purchase. It was a message. A reminder. A gentle whisper from God, the Holy Spirit, the Divine—whatever name you give to the force that loves us even when we can’t love ourselves.
This isn’t the first time something like this has happened to me. I’ve had journals, books, and random objects deliver these kinds of messages when I wasn’t even looking for them. But this moment felt especially tender because it came when I was low and quiet, when no one else could see that I was struggling. And in that moment, this message felt like it was written just for me.
“Open your mind.” Yes. Because sometimes the pain we feel is not because there’s no hope, but because our minds have closed off to the idea that better things are coming. Pain narrows your vision. It makes the future feel like a blur. But opening your mind—really allowing light to come in—can shift everything.
“Your future is bright.” Not might be. Is. That certainty felt like a promise. And it didn’t come from someone trying to cheer me up. It came quietly, from a place I trust, delivered through a simple piece of fabric in a discount bin.
And “Beloved Woman”—the label I hadn’t even noticed—was like being named. Not just “woman,” but “beloved.” It felt like God calling me by name. Like the universe was reminding me that I am not forgotten. That I am precious. That I am still on the journey, and that better days are not behind me but ahead.
Today, I feel lighter. I feel held. I feel like maybe that £1.50 wasn’t just a bargain—it was a blessing. A reminder that even on the hardest mornings, something beautiful can be waiting at the bus stop. And I’m learning to trust those little signs again.
Because life may not look how I want it to right now, but I am expecting pleasant surprises. I’m keeping my heart open, and my mind even more so. Because the future? Yes—it is bright.
About the Creator
Cathy (Christine Acheini) Ben-Ameh.
https://linktr.ee/cathybenameh
Passionate blogger sharing insights on lifestyle, music and personal growth.
⭐Shortlisted on The Creative Future Writers Awards 2025.
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Comments (2)
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What a beautiful story, Cathy! I personally call this ‘synchronisation.’ Many times there are little messages for us waiting to be found, to be seen. We just need to pay attention, to look around, to have out mind open, and make the connection. The connection to our own situation, circumstances in life that we are going through at certain point, like you now. Or even like I, becasue, let me tell you, that message comes at the right time also for me. And it found it’s way all the way to me today. And what you said about getting out of bed slowly, the little victories, I was reading your words and I was reading as something that also described very much how I feel. So you see, it’s what I call ‘synchronisation.’ We may call it a different thing, but we mean the same. Thank you for this very important story you wrote today. Enjoy your blue soft t-shirt very much. It’s very special, indeed.