Getting ready to leave for Madeline Island I decided that I would bring my 20-year-old juicer and about ten bags of carrots. Not sure why. I had never taken my juicer before. But apparently, this would be the year that I would be drinking carrot juice on vacation.

At the island we have no internet, so each morning I make a 6-mile drive to the town library to use the wi-fi to do my Miracles LIVE 365 prayer calls. I sit in my car in the library parking lot, and via my cell phone and the public internet I connect with a tribe of thirsty souls who join me in this daily sunrise practice of prayer, meditation, and miracles.

After my calls, I turn the car key and… nothing happened. My car wouldn’t start. Nothing. It was dead. At first, I was freaked out and frustrated. I needed to get home to drive my kids to camp; my husband had left for work, and they were waiting for me. I tried to call them, but no answer. I tried Liam’s cell phone, again no answer. I hung up and tried not to imagine houses on fire and mass murders.

It was early, and no one was around. I looked to the heavens to say, “Ok God… what now?” But as I looked up, something in the library window caught my eye. At first I thought I was seeing things because what I saw was an arm- a bare human arm that seemed to be waving or dancing or stretching out in an unusual way.

I got out of my car and tried the door of the library, which was open. It was off hours, and there was a part of me that thought, “What the hell are you doing? This is the obvious beginning to every horror films.” But having no other option, I pushed open the door and went in. From the stairs, I heard music- peaceful, meditative music. So up the stairs, I went, and as I turned the corner, I entered a room of five people who were lying dead on the floor. Okay, okay! My drama queen got the better of me. Actually, they were in Savasana… the final pose of most yoga classes, and as God would have it, I happened to know one of the fake dead folks on the floor. “Hey, Ron?” I whispered. “Could you jump my car?”

He raised his head, and through one squinted eye beamed at me in his post-yoga bliss, “Sure thing!” As the other students began rolling up their mats, I tried to explain to the yoga teacher why I was sneaking around the library at such an early hour.  “I teach A Course In Miracles on the phone in the morning and I don’t have internet… She stopped me before I was able to finish. “Oh, that’s why you came in here. I’ve been wanting to study that!” “Really?” I asked. “That’s cool. I’ll come tomorrow and give you the info.”

Back down at my car, Ron gave me a jump. When I asked if I could buy him a coffee he declined. “I don’t drink the stuff.” “How ‘bout I make you a nice green smoothie?” I asked. “No thanks. But you know what I really like?” he asked. I shrugged because I wasn’t going to be wrong three times, and I thought coffee and a smoothie were both pretty strong answers. “I love carrot juice,” he announced with a smile. I laughed and nodded, “Of course you do. And believe it or not, I can make you one.”

I got back in my car that was now humming as if nothing happened. I made another attempt to reach my kids. Liam, my 13 year old, answered in a huffing voice. “Yeah, mom?” “What are you doing? Why didn’t you answer?” “Oh, we’re riding our bikes to town.” “Oh great,” I heard myself say, as I began to see a bigger picture taking place. It was not about my car dying. It was about meeting the yoga instructor who just happened to be looking for a teacher. It was about Ron, who just happened to enjoy carrot juice. And it was about my kids finding their independence and confidence that came with riding their bikes to town- something I would not have suggested because I can suffer from being too fearful, too controlling, and way too helpful.

You ever notice how there really is a plan? A plan that is so well-choreographed and thought-out that it doesn’t miss a beat. A plan that needs no worry or stress. A plan that is like an old river that knows its own course. If we just trust it and surrender to it, things work out better than we could have predicted.

Life is filled with ups and downs and the thing is, we’re going to meet obstacles. Even when we do our spiritual practice, even when we feed the poor and love the unlovable, even when we tuck our chins and bow our heads every morning to our Divine, even when we surrender every hour- we will meet with struggle. We will slip, we will fail, we will fall. On the best of our worst days, we might find the Grace to remember that “this too shall pass.” But instead of waiting around for the storm to blow over, there is a way through. A little “T.I.P.” that is easy to remember. Ready? Here it is, your cure-all: “This Is Perfect”

What would happen if you knew even when the car dies, and the creepy arms waves at us through the window… even when

the marriage ends, your favorite uncle dies,

your son lands on your couch in a year of depression,

your credit card is declined, and your bank account reads $7.00.

THIS IS PERFECT. It’s a labor pain. It’s a classroom at worst and a catalyst at best. There is nothing to fear.

It’s our resistance to what is that causes us pain. It is not the situation but our thoughts about the situation. So in those moments when the rug is pulled, and you get sucker-punched, see if you can stand firm in your peace and pull up whatever conviction you can muster and say to those places of pain, “THIS IS PERFECT.”

Because here’s the thing: you are not doing this alone. A Course In Miracles tells us that all healing is mutual. This idea brings me strength in my shakier hours. All the healing you do is done for everyone. So say to the fear… however it shows up, “On behalf of my tribe, (also known as the human race), I will face this and heal this and rise from this.” And when I face my own shadow puppets, I will slay them for you.  I heal for me, I heal for you, I heal for us.

This is perfect.

(don’t trust me try it out for yourself and see if it works)

Maureen Muldoon is The Spiritual Vixen, a happiness Pied Piper, intuitive vision caster, fearless activist, writer, speaker, storyteller and thought leader. She is the spiritual director of SpeakEasy Spiritual Community and creative director of Voice Box. She hosts conversations that inspire individuals and organizations to get on course with their own brilliance. She blogs at ~ MaureenMuldoon.com and Vlogs on YOUTUBE