Echoes of Inspiration: An Unexpected Encounter and a Calling Confirmed

18 comments
Elli poses in front of her easel loaded with artwork

It's 2018, and I'm in the midst of one of the most exciting yet demanding seasons of my life. I've decided to put the Mastery Program online, dedicating 4-5 days a week to filming the course.

Additionally, I'm teaching the Mastery Program in person to two groups of artists three days a week, from 9 AM to 9 PM. My Saturdays are reserved for running Zoom calls with four groups of artists participating in the beta test of our online program. We record my sessions with the in-person students and ensure everything is uploaded by Monday. Then, I reconnect with them on Saturdays to answer questions and guide them through the program.

I'm also maintaining relationships with galleries and other business contacts, continuing to supply them with artwork. Managing my time isn’t necessary because every moment is accounted for, and I need to sustain this pace for at least a year to complete the filming on schedule.

Every night, as my head hits the pillow, I melt into the most satisfying exhaustion, knowing I am building something that will serve artists for years to come and launch them into their full-time creative careers.

In the Quiet of the Night

Elli and Dimitra filming the Mastery Program

One night, as I lie in bed drifting off, I begin to hear an ancient trumpet sound that builds into a 10-15 second crescendo before fading back into silence and then starting again. I can hardly believe my ears. I wear earplugs at night to muffle John’s snoring, so I'm certain the sound isn’t coming from inside the house.

I take out my earplugs to see if the sound becomes louder, and it disappears. I replace the earplugs, wondering if I had dreamt or imagined the sound. But then, it starts up again. I realize that if I move too much or begin to search for the sound in my environment, it fades away. As I submit myself to the sound, it grows stronger, louder, and more saturating.

I am in awe. Each trumpet vibration seems to electrify my bones. I spend the entire night listening to this chorus of trumpets as they crescendo and then dissolve into the stillness, only to build again. My breathing synchronizes with the sounds, making me feel as though the trumpets are resonating within me. The experience is profoundly moving.

I am convinced it is God. I know something supernatural is happening, a truly extraordinary event I will never forget. The encounter feels intensely private and personal. I resolve to keep it to myself the next day. Yet, I move through the day with a lighter step and my head a little closer to the clouds. No matter what happens or how frustrated anyone in class might get, I remind myself: "But God is here. He is real. He is closer than my breath."

That night, as I lie in bed hoping for the trumpets to return, I hear nothing but the silence of my earplugs and the faint, low hum of John’s snoring. I wait and wait for the trumpets to reappear. Just as I begin to drift into sleep, the faint buildup and crescendo of the trumpets start anew. As I deepen my breath, tuning into the sound, it grows stronger and louder until I can feel it resonating in my bones again. I remain perfectly still, letting the sound fine-tune my very essence, aligning every thought, cell, and fiber of my being with the majestic trumpets.

The sound is so unique, definite, and familiar. It wasn't a brass trumpet. It was the deep hollow ring that twisted through an animal horn, an ancient sound echoing through the portals of time. It made me feel completely undone yet whole all at once.

The trumpet sounds continue for weeks but never become ordinary. I tell John and the kids about it. They find it interesting and exciting, but they can't quite grasp the profound impact it has on me. To me, it feels like an immense honor and privilege, and I can hardly believe I get to experience it.

One night, after I've fallen asleep to the trumpets, I awaken to my room bathed in a golden, fiery light. Fearing to move even an inch lest I be consumed, I lie still, only daring to move my eyes. Through the blinding light, I see the lower half of a giant angel. My heart pounds with fright and wonder as the angel presents a burning, golden crest—resembling a family crest—carved with the image of an eagle in flight, swooping down, its wings forming an "M."

 Echoes of the Divine

Elli's painting of an angel surrounded by stars

In the morning, I wake with no recollection of the encounter in my room. I enjoy my usual routine, then sit on the couch with my coffee and begin looking at Facebook messages. After reading a few, I scroll through my feed and notice a photo of an eagle swooping down to grab a snake from the road. Instantly, my heart skips a beat as the memory of last night's vision with the family crest floods back with perfect clarity. I gasp, recalling the angel presenting the crest.

My family wonders what I’m gasping about. I share the experience of the previous night, and we start discussing the trumpets, the angel, and what it all could mean. It seems the weeks of hearing the trumpets have opened a portal, allowing me to behold what I saw. The crest feels like a commission and assignment. I feel like our family is being brought into some divine calling with tremendous significance.

Feeling moved, I am compelled to paint eagles and crests, attempting to capture the essence of my experience. Although I know I cannot replicate the sheer beauty and magnificence of what I saw in the glowing bright light of what seemed like holy fire, I am drawn to paint eagles nonetheless.

 Mystery and Meaning

Elli's painting of a girl's face overlaid with the image of an eagle

A few months later, a mysterious box arrives in the mail. Inside, I find a card from Ebtihal, a beta test online Mastery student whom I've been mentoring on Saturdays as she completes her portfolio. I open the box and read through the papers, which say I have been given a star.

I feel cynical, wondering how someone could think they could sell the stars. I’m honored that Ebtihal felt moved to thank me for all her progress and transformation with the purchase of a star, but how does this star registry think they own the stars to sell one?

Despite my skepticism, I continue to explore the contents and discover a plaque with the name Deneb el Okab, located in the constellation Aquila, 154 light years away. Accompanying this is a portrait of an eagle set against the constellation. A quick search reveals that “Aquila” means “eagle” in Latin, and the star Ebtihal chose represents the tip of the eagle’s left wing.

As I reflect, my initial cynicism melts into awe. I feel a twinge of shame for dismissing the gift as a scam. I realize that God is speaking. The angel, the trumpets, and the stars all belong to God, who is orchestrating some kind of divine poetry just for me—a cosmic commission marking both my destiny and my family's legacy. This assignment was forged in gold from the very fire of heaven, and the scroll of my life’s work was written in the stars.

I am called to a heavenly project of profound beauty that will impact artists and all whom they influence around the world. Holding my star, I realize eagles do not eat dead meat; they do not scavenge. They would starve if they didn’t hunt fresh prey. When their beaks grow too dull to kill, eagles soar high and break their old beaks against the rocks, waiting for new, sharp beaks to form, ready to hunt again. In this vulnerable state, they must make their first kill to be reborn and carry their knowledge and experience forward.

 Visionary Flight

Elli's painting of a girl's face overlaid with the image of an eagle

The trumpets blasted to mark the beginning of my second life. Like the eagle, I have experienced both the heights and the depths. Now, I forge a new path for others.

Eagles don’t consume the remnants left by others. On this new path, we don’t copy, plagiarize, or recycle. We pioneer, looking beyond the veil into the golden light of heaven and pulling down the glimpses of a world yet to be. We bring the far things near. We draw on heaven and co-imagine our future filled with hope, beauty, light, and life. Together, we will bring heaven to earth, where pain and sorrow will be no more.

Share your story in the comments below!


18 comments


  • Elizabeth Berry

    I read your post, the shofar blowing, the eagles, the bottom half of an angel and my Jungian thoughts caused me to take intense interest. I’ll read it again. I know it is symbolism with meanings given to you, perhaps for all as we are One in Him. Many today are hearing trumpets, having visions, synchronicities. Personally I’ve awoken to something the same. Two glowing people near my bedroom patio door and I heard, “She is one of us”. I pondered this and as a chaplain did not want it to go to my head but in the morning I opened a diary I wrote in the nineties when I wrote bad poetry. I hadn’t read in it in years but one opened and part way through the writing it said, ‘She is one of us”. I think this is the church and we as Christians are living in a day when we have a role to pray. We are the bridesmaids awaiting, holding forth our lit lanterns. On another very minor thing, I have two accounts elisabery@me.com and above…not knowing how to combine them LOL. Bless you E. You do know that El is a name for God…I notice that when anyone has EL somewhere in their name LOl, just a habit.
    ———
    Elli Milan Art replied:
    Wow!! So cool! Such a similar experience! My real name is Elizabeth as well!


  • Barbara Bestrom

    Thank you Ali for that wonderful story and how are you are hearing from God and responding. I think we call those God moments.
    As a small child, maybe five years of age, I was found in a church, looking up at the beautiful lights hanging down from the ceiling, fascinated by them, because we did not have electric lights in our home. Then something happened on the stage, a woman and I later learned that her two daughters went up, she sat at the piano. All three of them sang, they were singing about God. Suddenly the room grew brighter and warmer, it felt like the spirit of God just came down into my heart, into my mind and I knew that I wanted to be able to make music like they were making and I wanted to know the God that they were singing about. that was the first time I’ve ever been in church and I don’t recall being in church again for many, many years, yet that incident was never far from my mind or heart. At the age of nine my parents got a beat up old Piano given them to them, to me. I walked a mile to take lessons. At the age of 15 I was found in a church again. This time I heard the call from my heavenly father, and I prayed and became a child of God at the time. At age 20 I began to make music at the church, and have done so ever since to this very day at age 84, I am still a performing pianist. But I new found call came into my life when I was in New York City performing in Carnegie Hall. There working with the New York Philharmonic Orchestra for the entire week leading up to the performance on Sunday night, I had time to go to the art museums during the day, and that’s when I felt a strong, strong power in my life to become a fine art artist. Just like with the music it did not happen for many years later. so also, it was with Art. It was 15 years later before one day I said as I was putting together a beautiful picture puzzle probably about the 90th puzzle I had done or more and when I viewed its completion I said to myself, or myself was saying to me the question that I repeated over and over “Oh I wish I could paint that.” Then suddenly came the thought “why don’t I try it” why just wish every time I put a pole together that I would be able to paint something all that beautiful, why not try it!
    I had never been exposed to any kind of art lessons, drawing lessons classes nothing like that in my little country school in high school even in college my studies weren’t anywhere connected with Art. I went to the store bought a paint by number a little panel with some paint and that’s how I started. by the time I had finished that painting, oh, knew this was for me for sure. Oh, I was going to learn how to become a fine artist. Again, it would be years before I would find you, Ali and Milan art academy. I am so grateful and I do see God’s hand guiding me and all of my ways even as the Scriptures tell us that he will do.. I am now living my dream of being a fine artist, while I continue to be a performing artist at the piano and teaching many little fingers along the way, how to do the same. What joy is mine!
    Thank you Eli for following your dream so that you can help make my dream and many other peoples dreams become a reality.
    Barbara
    ———
    Elli Milan Art replied:
    Wow! Barbara. What an inspiring and uplifting story. I’m sure you are a huge inspiration to follow your passion in Gods presence through art at 84! Amazing! You are my hero!


  • Veronica Davis

    Wow! This is such an amazing story. And I read this right on the heels of a book called Epic Faith which deals with hearing from God a lot. I think finding Milan Art Institute was a divine connection. Right now I’m just doing Masterclasses. It is not the right time to go full time with this. But there will be a time. Thank you for sharing this story. God bless you!!


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