The Bell Tower

Personal Reflections: When the Bell Tolls Within

Inspired by this week’s parable, The Bell Tower

When I reflect on the moral of this week’s parable The Bell Tower, I’m reminded of the silent calls we often ignore—the quiet ring deep within that urges us to rise, to act, to step into something more.

I’ve experienced that inner bell a few times in my life—times when I was being nudged, sometimes gently and sometimes not so gently, to listen and shift. The first time I remember feeling it, I was in my early teens. I had a strong, unexplainable sense that I was meant to speak to students about something meaningful. I didn’t know what it meant at the time, and I didn’t act on it. But the sense of being called to do more, to share something deeper, never really left me.

That inner bell rang again in my early thirties—right in the middle of the career climb. I’ve referenced this season before, in the parable of The Ladder Against the Wrong Wall. On the surface, I was advancing: holding leadership roles, working for reputable companies, building something secure. But every time I faced significant challenges in the workplace—not the kind that sharpen you, but the kind that drain and disconnect you—that inner bell would ring again.

At the time, I didn’t always understand what was happening. But now, I see that those moments of discomfort were signals. When we’re pushed into challenge, especially the kind that stirs us deeply, it often means something within us is ready to evolve. These aren’t roadblocks—they’re realignment points. They’re designed to shake us out of complacency and call us into our next chapter.

The truth is, most of the transformative moments in my life didn’t feel transformative at the time. They felt uncomfortable. Uncertain. Risky. And only in hindsight—weeks, months, sometimes even years later—did I understand what those moments were really offering: deep, soul-level growth.

There are two major turning points in my life that stand out as clear echoes of the bell tower’s call.

The first was a spiritual awakening that unfolded during a challenging period in my career. It sent me on a healing journey—one of reflection, unlearning, and deep listening. I enrolled in courses on energy healing and intuitive development. I began working with people who were sick, searching, or struggling. I didn’t always know what I was offering, but I knew I was meant to be present. To support. To help. And in that service, I found something I hadn’t expected: joy. The kind of joy that comes not from achievement, but from selflessness. From witnessing someone else’s healing and knowing you played a small role.

That spiritual growth expanded into my professional life. I took on a broader role at work, focused on employee giving and charitable initiatives. Eventually, I stepped fully into leading the company’s corporate social responsibility program, working with nonprofits like Habitat for Humanity, the Canadian Association of Credit Counselling, and Eva’s Place, supporting at-risk youth. I spent seven years in that role, and I loved every moment of it. It wasn’t just a job—it was soul work. It felt aligned with the purpose I’d been quietly searching for.

The second pivotal moment came when I left that role—a decision that felt bold, necessary, and terrifying. I moved into a high-growth, high-risk startup. And while the startup came with opportunities and energy, it also brought instability. Eventually, I was out of work and questioning whether I had made a mistake.

But I knew, deep down, it wasn’t a mistake. It was a stretch. It was a bell ringing again—louder this time—telling me it was time to move forward, even if I couldn’t yet see where I was going.

What followed was unexpected. I reconnected with a former colleague from twenty years earlier, and we co-wrote and published a marketing book together on Amazon. That same year, I wrote a second book—this time on spirituality and energy healing. Two books in one year, born out of uncertainty and surrender. It was uncomfortable, yes—but also powerful. Those projects were never on my “plan,” but they were clearly part of my path.

The moral of The Bell Tower is this: when your moment comes, listen. The call may not be loud. It may not even make sense at first. But when it’s your time—when your soul is ready—you’ll know.

And when that knowing comes, be ready to rise.

You don’t have to act instantly. And not every nudge is a call to action. But when the bell rings clearly, unmistakably—it’s your time to take the baton and run your stretch of the journey. It may come fast, or it may unfold slowly. Either way, don’t miss it.

Because it almost always comes bearing the gifts of growth, purpose, and transformation.