Audible Hallucinations: A Free Spirit's Journey In Discovering WHOSE She Really Is

by Betsy Meredith Hudgens

  Over the years, I have developed a symbolic ritual of letting go of baggage by releasing helium balloons. This tends to be an annual event and I have done this alone and with friends in the past. It’s always been a great way for me to let go of whatever is bothering me at the time. I have often joked that there is some pig farmer in Iowa who has my helium balloons landing on his property and, when he sees them, he asks himself, “What’s going on with Betsy now?” It has also been a way for me to release my requests, dreams, and goals and it’s a quirky and colorfully symbolic way to pray. I knew I needed to get four balloons: a pink one, a red one, a green one, and a yellow one. I knew that the first three balloons represented me and two of my friends, who I wanted to release in prayer, but I hadn’t a clue what the yellow one meant.

  In the early afternoon, after my friend and I finished our meeting, I drove to a store close to the ranch to purchase balloons. I asked her opinion on the yellow balloon and she immediately told me that she believed it was symbolic of freedom and that immediately resonated as truth. I purchased the bundle of four balloons and headed to the car. Ironically, as I was leaving the store, the yellow balloon exploded. To me, that symbolic moment represented that there is always something in life trying to destroy our freedom. I simply laughed and walked back and purchased another yellow balloon, retied the bundle, placed them in the car, and drove up Deer Creek Canyon to my sacred ground.

  We drove around the property and I pointed out landmarks and shared the attached history. My friend had her camera and took pictures. When it was approaching the time we had to leave, I knew exactly where I needed to release the balloons. Imbedded within a dry pond, now full of cattails, was the very dock I found and sat on many years back as I prayed that God would show me a “sign” that He was with me that day. We relaxed and embraced the moment for a few minutes and then simply released the balloons. My friend quickly snapped a picture, as the balloons rapidly caught flight and would soon disappear out of sight. It wasn’t until the next day that I would understand what happened on an even a deeper level of symbolism.

  As my friend and I reviewed all of the beautiful photos, we both noticed something profound with the balloons. The yellow balloon, though it had been tied in the bundle, was flying a full foot above the rest and was apparently leading the other three that were huddled together on the same plane. The moment I saw that photo, my heart shifted to an incredibly deep level of understanding. In a place that I held sacred, and in many ways has kept me in emotional bondage, a symbol of freedom rose above all of my dreams, my wounds and pains and was carrying me. The organization of the balloons also became a symbol that freedom was stronger and above anything or anyone I was “tied” to. It was above me, my hurt, and above any expectations, hurts, or pains of those around me. In some formation, I will always be tethered to people as I fly through life, but they are not what will carry me, nor can they pull me down and keep me from flying. It was a powerful symbol to have etched in my mind as I began the process of surrendering relationships, which would come just a few short months later.

  When I let go of the balloons, I was clueless as to the full impact of the freedom that I was both requesting and releasing. I may never fully grasp what happened that day, but as long as I live, I will never be able to look at a yellow balloon and not be reminded of the shift in my heart and the profound beauty of that day. Regardless of where I live, or with whom I have aligned myself with in relationship, if I hold my head high, and focus both outwards and upwards, I will always see freedom and blessing!

  CHAPTER 16

  NOW IT ALL MAKES SENSE

  It’s now February of 2012, and when I started this journey back in December, I was coming from a place of brokenness and sorrow. While it was the recent relationship fallout that caused so much pain, it was both the relationship itself and its demise that lanced existing wounds and exposed the lies that I believed about myself, as well as destructive relational patterns that were harming me and those around me. It was, in fact, these deeper issues that were the true source of my pain. I can equate this process to what transpires when I go in my yard and turn over a rock. Usually, when the rock is removed, there are all sorts of creatures, who sometimes sting and cause pain. I have been given the opportunity to have the yucky and potentially harmful aspects of my personality and behavior, rooted deep within my heart, uncovered and exposed to the sunlight.

  As I reflected back to the release of the balloons and started this process, I couldn’t help but ponder the existence of freedom and know that it was right before me. Though I was hurting, I had peace and an acute awareness that it is the truth that sets us free. If the truth sets us free, then the lies we believe about ourselves and others are what keep us in bondage. Though everything in me wanted to shut down and drag the stone back over my exposed crud, I instinctually knew that if I could stay exposed and raw, something would happen that would permanently change my heart.

  Before I made any decisions as to how I needed to handle the truth, I needed to accept the fact that I had embraced lies about myself, albeit unconsciously. I reached out to a friend who I know loves me, but mixes that love with a boldness to speak truth into my life. Knowing the current situation and all of my history, she made a profound observation and suggestion. She told me that given the space I was in, and my inclinations toward being needy when I feel like I am emotionally drowning, there was a strong possibility that I may be inclined to grasp for a quick fix to make the pain go away. She explained that, much like an addict reaches for a fix from their drug of choice, I may do the same thing. It wouldn’t be healthy for me or the friends I turned to for the fix. I hated that feedback, but knew she was right. I also knew that this was another perfect opportunity to surrender. Though the circumstances were different, the feeling was exactly the same as it was when I needed new tires and a new place to live. There was nothing I could or should do to fix this myself. I had to carve out a space for God to move in and, if I could simply stay surrendered, I was confident that a new story would unfold.

  I canceled most of my upcoming plans, and with the exception of my husband and this one particular friend, I wanted to be left alone and get into a deep place of intimacy with God. I simply asked that He would show up for me, heal me, and teach me. I made the decision not to make one phone call or send any emails, unless specifically led, and let God have the reigns. It was on December 23, 2011, that I was led to call my friend in Florida and the seed for this book was planted. Two days later, that seed took root and this journey began. What has transpired since then is exactly what I hoped for. I wanted the conclusion of this book to be filled with more examples of God’s goodness, but this time, on a level that would impact my relationships. I was also hoping that something would happen that would speak truth to the many lies I had hung on to about myself, specifically that I don’t matter, that I do nothing but cause pain, and the others that I previously identified. Here are a few events that have transpired.

  On the day I was writing the tire story, I made camp at Panera. I got up to get another cup of coffee and, as I was walking around the corner, I heard, “Hey Betsy,” in an enthusiastic tone. I couldn’t believe it. It was a gal who I went to high school with twenty years ago in Western Colorado. I had seen her a decade ago, but had completely lost contact. As I sat and got caught up, I told her that I was on the second day of writing this book. We talked at length about the theme, the recent life events, and my amusement at running into her. When it was time for me to go, she walked me to my car and without prompting, spoke something to me that started the shift in my heart. She told me that in high school, she always thought highly of me and that my willingness to always be honest and authentic is something that is refreshing and valuable. It meant so much to me, because one of my insecurities has always been that I am just “too much” for people. I also found it interesting that it was she who spoke this to me for one simple reason. In high school, I felt really out of place and on the outskirts. I perceive
d her as one of the popular people, admired her, and always wanted to be like her. Here she was twenty years later, at this fragile moment in time, telling me that she had always admired me. I had a feeling that this was only the beginning of the Divine encounters.

  The very next day, when I was writing the story about the “sign” at the ranch, my phone rang and the number came up on caller ID as unknown. I usually never answer when I don’t know who it is, but given the current circumstances, I was curious. On the other end was a dear friend who I have not seen since my wedding and have spoken to minimally. She told me that she had to be brief because she was at work, but she absolutely knew that she needed to stop and call me right then. When I told her what was going on, and the irony of her timing, she acknowledged the seemingly Divine intervention and told me that it explained why she was feeling an overwhelming need to make connection and tell me that I was loved. Wow!

  The next evening, after having an especially rough day emotionally, I was playing Pictionary with my husband and my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the area code, assumed it was likely a solicitor, but answered anyway. On the other end of the phone was a soft voice that said, “Betsy you may not remember me, but I was going through my phone’s contact list and wanted to call you.” I did remember her. Back in September, when Jason and I were returning from Boston, this woman was on our flight home. She needed help with her luggage. I helped her get it out of the overhead compartment and then made sure she was connected with her family at the Denver airport. She was precious, and I felt led to go the extra mile to help her, gave her my phone number, and thought nothing more of it. We didn’t talk long on the phone, but she simply wanted to tell me that, “I was an angel.” After hanging up from this very short call, I turned to Jason stunned, explained what happened, and his mouth dropped. He simply shook his head at the timing and said, “Wow!”

  The next day was Saturday, December 31, and with the combination of my funky mood, a need to be alone, and the fact that Jason was on call at work, we stayed at home rather than go out for any New Year’s celebration. I was getting a really strong feeling that we needed to visit a friend’s church the next day. I had no clue why, as I hadn’t been a big fan of this place in the past, and really had no desire to be social. I mentioned it to Jason and he had the same inclination, so we decided to go. What transpired that day can only be categorized as another dose of symbolism, as it was the first day of the new year. Jason and I ended up running into, and going to lunch with, a couple I had been close to in years previous. During the lunch, I felt led to ask the question, “Did I ever do anything to create an offense?” The answer was a resounding “yes!” After hearing about how some of my words and actions had created hurt, I immediately made the commitment to step up and make it right. That lunch led to four separate conversations and meetings over the next several weeks that needed to happen for over a decade. It was reconciliation working at its finest. My heart and others’ hearts were healed from wounds I didn’t realize remained, but God did and offered a new beginning for old relationships.

  That specific series of events led me to ponder what other wounds still existed that I was unconsciously still carrying, so I prayed and asked. No surprise; more happened. A friend from almost twenty years ago had already reached out and subsequent conversations led to her asking for forgiveness for something that had transpired between she and I decades previously. I had no idea how much the events with her had hurt me until she mentioned it. It was also nice to see that I wasn’t the only one in the world who was pondering past events and reaching out to make amends to people who I had affected. I knew there was more.

  There had been a key individual to my success while I was at CSU with whom I had lost touch. She and I had a good relationship, but she quit responding to me several years ago. I had reached out previously and asked if I had done something to offend her, but she never responded. Though I had set it aside, it always bothered me. On the day I was writing the story about Kitty escaping, I made a quick stop at the grocery store, and in one of the aisles, this person stood. I called out her name, and when she turned with a big smile, I realized that yet another miracle had just happened. I asked her if I had done anything to cause the lack of communication and she simply explained that she hadn’t responded solely due to a hectic schedule and that I hadn’t done anything to offend her. I realized that on a metaphoric level, God was removing splinters from my heart that He knew were still causing me pain, and He was speaking truth to the places where lies had taken root.

  While editing and preparing to release this book for publication, I received an email from my doctor’s office. In August of 2010, when Jason and I sold our townhouse, we took a portion of the proceeds and set up a fund at this clinic to benefit individuals who don’t have health insurance. We hadn’t heard any of the resulting benefits for recipients until this point. The administrator, who sent the email, informed me that many patients received critical tests and treatment, and announced that other clinics had joined the cause, thus spreading the miracle. He explained that he was preparing a statement for various news outlets in Colorado. This email punctuated what God was showing me. I do matter to people and the way Jason and I choose to live, in service to others and not ourselves, is literally saving lives.

  These events and many others that transpired, as I was writing this book, were reshaping my heart and causing me to realize how important I am to people and that I do matter, but I was still hoping for more. I wanted all of my relationships to be healed. I wanted every wound that I either caused or received to be touched. I wanted all painful ties broken and I wanted closure. Without initiating any of the events that transpired, miracles happened that touched me deeply, so I had a basis of faith to work from. I chose to stay surrendered, trust God, and let Him speak to my heart. There were several people who I wanted to connect with. I wanted to allow God a chance to intervene, but my attempts at reaching out, even to ask for forgiveness were failing, in several situations. After doing all I knew and felt led to do, being fully surrendered, I peacefully laid down for a nap on Monday, January 30, 2012.

  I woke up shortly thereafter with a realization of the biggest miracle of all. I had been expecting something else big to happen, like another phone call, someone showing up at my door, or running into someone. My expectation was that something external to me would occur that would permanently heal me. I was profoundly wrong, and in that moment of afternoon post-nap grogginess, I knew it.

  In the past, when I was faced with challenges in my relationships, I would brood and over-analyze everything that had happened. I would endlessly beat myself up, feel shame and guilt over my role, and most significantly, lose sleep for months on end, affecting me physically and impacting those around me. I would have level-10 reactions to level-2 situations because a current event that was presenting itself, was hitting deeper wounds. That wasn’t happening. I had the profound realization that from December 9, 2011, when an important relationship fell apart, to January 30, 2012, when I woke up from my nap, I hadn’t lost one night of sleep. Even more astonishing, my existing relationships were actually getting stronger. How could that be true?

  As I pondered what transpired and all of my emotions attached to these events, I remember the discussion with my friend about seeking a relational fix. Because I chose not to do that, and let God bring what He knew I needed. I stayed in a place of surrender and didn’t pull the metaphoric rock back over to hide the yuckiness. The healing I was expecting came, not from an external event, but from an internal shift and permanent healing. The external events helped, and God knew exactly which people I needed to interact with, but ultimately what caused the lasting change was an internal acceptance and a reconciliation of my own heart to the truth of both who, and WHOSE, I am, and that I am loved by many, even with my imperfections and failures. With underlying wounds healed, though saddened by the recent loss of a friend, my reaction to this event was no longer triggering overreactions and lack of peace.


  I have come to accept that I am both highly intense and passionate, which most people can’t handle, and that’s okay, because I have beautiful relationships with those who can. I value candidness and honesty, and find freedom in realizing and acknowledging my imperfections. I have come to realize that until I am whole, I will both attract and collide with people who will expose these imperfections, and that’s a good thing, even if it hurts. I have made many mistakes in my life. Out of fear and immaturity, I have hurt people and have learned that while people should forgive, they often don’t, and though I need to realize that I shouldn’t willfully do things that are hard to forgive, I can’t control whether others will look at their own role in conflicts or how they will respond to my desire for reconciliation. God doesn’t force reconciliation either, as He gives us each a free will. But what He will do, however, is heal our hurts from the painful choices that we make, and that others make. It was a powerfully beautiful revelation that the deepest healing comes when God Himself touches a wound and there is an internal contentment regardless of external circumstances.

  In a very short time, I have come to a place where I have nobody in my life that I would be afraid to see. I have no fears attached to confronting any situation or any event. I have faced all of my mistakes head on, made peace with my past, have done all I can do in every situation that I am aware of, including the most recent fallout, and have embraced the lessons that were presented to me. I can now peacefully rest. In the midst of pain, I have been set free, and because of that, dear readers, I can say, “I will make no more apologies and I will carry no more shame!”

  I want to wrap up with one final story. In the early 2000s, when I had my office and was struggling to find my way, I sat one day, sobbing at my desk. I was grieving, confused, and in a tremendous amount of pain. In a prayer, referring to all that I was facing as a young adult, I literally called out, “This doesn’t make any sense!” Within a few minutes, a young man walked into my office looking for directions. I looked up and was completely caught off-guard. He stood before me wearing an old T-shirt. On the shirt was a simple saying: “Someday, it will all make sense.” After spending over a month writing stories to share and give people hope, there is profound clarity. My life, my trials, my successes, and my failures finally do make sense, and I eagerly anticipate all of the other miracles that will continue to unfold in this amusing journey of my life.