In the old days, God made himself known through signs and wonders. Jesus worked miracles. Prophets dreamed dreams and had visions. But what about today?
Well, if we can keep this just among ourselves, I’ll tell you…God gets my attention through little stuff no one else would notice.
Like 11:11. It’s the date of my grandfather’s birthday: 11/11/11. A cool number. Amazing how many times it comes up on my cell phone or digital watch just as I have made a decision or am departing a challenging event or wondering whether I have done the right thing. I even got it on a Panera receipt. The cashier probably wondered why I was so excited.
Then there is my chiming watch. (I’ve written about it here before.) It chimes the exact hour, every hour. Amazing how many times its sound coincides with just the moment I begin a new thing or wonder whether I should take a different tack.
Or the whirligig that landed on my writing table, just as I was beginning the last book edit? I remember watching those helicopter down to the ground, fascinating me with their flight.
Let’s not forget the deer grazing – sometimes one, sometimes several – who seem oblivious to their message for me: I am with you in this.
I headed out to collect the paper yesterday and my eyes fell upon this.
Come on, this is the stick figure house I always drew, well, still draw because I am not much of a draw-er. Can you believe the detail? No other twigs or branches or greenery or mulch in sight. Just this, smack dab at the end of my driveway, as if it was placed there, for my pleasure. It even launched a ditty in my head. “our house … is a very, very, very fine house…”
God and I have developed quite a few “signs and wonders” in our special language over the years. These things wouldn’t probably attract any one else’s attention. But they do, mine. But where did they come from? I’m not talking superstition, here. I mean really, who gave me these ideas?
Well, Bampa gave me 11:11. I accidentally activated the chime on an excursion my youngest and I took together to a crazy event. She also introduced me to faces thanks to Dairy Queen’s curlicue softserve. The whirligigs are a product of my childhood friends. Observing deer arrived first on the way to deliver one of my children by scheduled C-section. Thank goodness for that doe. All these, and so many more, are the collection of stories that have left a memento. Other peoples’ stories that have intersected with my own and become a part of mine. Entwined as sign and wonder.
So, the small twig house at the end of the driveway? Do you suppose God was just showing off? Or do you think He intended me to sing? Sing/sign? Pretty close. Might just be coincidence.