I don’t believe in coincidence.  I used to, however, until my faith changed my perspective.  Now I think moments in my life once chalked up to chance were actually part of a pre-scripted plan that was anything but.  Like the time an older gentleman from North Dakota sat next to me on a flight to Houston.  It was January 19, 2004.  So nine years ago this week.  I was meeting Dave in Texas for his vasectomy reversal; something I did not discuss with the guy on the plane, surprisingly.  What we did talk about was our relationship with God.  The topic of tithing came up.   He said something that planted a seed in my mind only to be watered years later.  Essentially that you will never regret giving God his share in terms of the blessings it will bring to your life.  He was right.  Or like the time a woman overheard my mom, aunt and me talking about which glasses to select for my grandpa’s funeral after the car crash that killed him had destroyed his pair.  We were at a Main Street drugstore in the small farm town of Gibson City, Illinois.  She explained that from our conversation she knew we must have known the man involved in the fatal accident on a rural road.  And went on to tell us that she was the first one on the scene, arriving before paramedics.  She found my grandpa lying on the ground, having been thrown from his van.  He was still alive and she held his hand and comforted him until he was taken to the hospital.  Though he died, he had an angel on Earth with him at the end.  What a comfort to know this story.  Absolutely no coincidence that woman happened to be there at the same time.  It was meant to be.

Posted under Baby Thomas: Month 55