John Edward is a funny man. When I went to see his show last night at the Hyatt Regency Hotel in the airport, I hadn’t expected him to be so funny. Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t like he was performing or trying to be Jim Carrey. He just had a way of saying just the right thing at just the right time and in just the right way. Timing, you see, was everything last night. And John’s timing – whether on purpose or just lovely happenstance – was perfect.

Let’s face it, you go into a John Edward show with a certain expectation: you expect it’ll be emotional, it’ll be intense, it’ll be full of goose-bump moments. And it was. Let me reiterate. John’s show was so impressive that I wish I had worn a parka for how many chills I got during the duration. But just when he would be giving a reading that was too spot-on to be anything but real, just when I thought I’d die from the emotion lodging itself in my chest, John would go and say the most charming thing and have the whole audience laughing,

And it was like we could all breathe again. I mean, we were still all crying. But we could breathe again. And our minds could function again and we could listen to the simple lesson being taught all our lives and highlighted so wonderfully for those two and a half hours John was able to open up to us: The people who’ve crossed over are with us. They are happy. And there’s nothing to fear.

And I believe him. When John said that the clank, clank, clank sound in the kitchen was this woman’s mother, I believed him. When John said that a crossed over sister would be at the wedding, I believed him. And when he told the family to reach out to the best friend they no longer talked to because a family member told him it was very important, I believed him. He wasn’t tentatively asking a family. He was adamantly telling them, factually, what was being shown to him, what he was feeling. And the families didn’t fall in line, like they were on a witness stand and their attorney was leading them to the right answer. They were gasping, eyes wide, hands to chest, at what he was telling them. It was like they were thinking of a stream of numbers, from one to infinity, and John was able to pick out the exact chain. Seriously, there were times he seemed more mind-reader than medium. And he didn’t just do a huge cover-all reading, as if throwing spaghetti at a wall and seeing what stuck. God, the military couldn’t have sharper radar. John would literally point to people in the audience, his field covering maybe four people. That’s how accurate he was. That’s how specific.

He certainly has a gift, though he’d be the first one to tell you it’s not about the medium. And you know what? It’s true. He’s like a compass: he’s pointing north or south, but forces much bigger than him are directing the needle. And I think everyone that night understood just how powerful those winds are, and how ever present, even when we can’t always feel them.