Coincidence or Connection?

I had another 'NO WAY!!' moment. An 'I do not believe that has just happened!' moment. A coincidence that stops you in your tracks and at the moment of realisation, you laugh in disbelief.

I bought a book. Not an unusual occurrence. I would buy lots more books if I could but I have to restrain myself. I am a shameless raider of shelves. I love nothing more than poking about in a good second hand book shop, rummaging through piles and rows, hunting for copies of old editions. Among those on my list of items to search for is the Puffin Classic, The Princess and The Goblin by George MacDonald. I had already read it on my Kindle and I'm still waiting to find a hard copy but whilst browsing the classic fiction section in my favourite fusty Belfast book shop, I found several different copies of its sequel, The Princess and Curdie. I laid the books out to have a good look and compare the covers, choosing the one that was least marked and most intact. Happy with my choice (especially since the cover is illustrated by Pauline Baynes), I paid £2 and took it home where it sat on a shelf for several months until one day, I decided to pack it as holiday reading. Before tucking it into my bag, I opened it up at the fly leaf in order to print my name in the corner as is my habit and for the first time, noticed the name of a previous owner inscribed at the top of the page. It took a second for the name to register. There in neat, loopy schoolgirl handwriting was the maiden name of my friend J! Of course, there may well be many people of that same name but if I had bought this book eight years ago, the name would have meant nothing to me as we hadn't met and of all the thousands of books in the entire shop, I unknowingly chose one that might once have belonged to someone I now see all the time. Such a strange feeling! As if the past was connecting with the present.

Or there's the time that a friend shared the story of a very personal written gift that she had made and printed for another mutual friend. A week later I was sitting in that same mutual friend's house and discovered that on a bookshelf right at my elbow was the very gift that I had heard the story of a week previously. I recognised the printed image on the cover and exclaimed in surprise, explaining to my friend that I knew what it was and who it was from. She generously told me to pick it up and read the touching words written inside. I had no hesitation in doing so as I already knew what those words would be, having already been told of them by the author and I felt overcome by a sudden sense of deep connection with my sisters in Christ. The feeling of being knit together, part of a web of relationships and knowing myself to be truly blessed to count these women as good friends who were sharing with me their love for each other.

Or there's the time that I bought a New Living Translation of the New Testament for 75p in a Save the Children shop. A paperback copy with an extended index giving guidance and highlighting key verses on various aspects of the Christian life, much of which at the time, I barely glanced at. One year later however, I listened to a kids mission beach talk all about God keeping his promises and how he will keep his promise that I will have eternal life. No more than half an hour later, I read in my bargain Bible these words, 'for God loved J so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that if J believes in him she will not perish but have eternal life.' There in black and white that very promise printed personally for me which had gone unnoticed up until then. Of all the names that could have been chosen and printed it happened to be my name. An awesome coincidence that filled up the storehouses of my soul with joy and encouragement. I am connected for eternity to God through his Son and it felt to me that he had written it down and published a Bible just to tell me that! It had a great impact on me and the timing of that coincidence was suffused with meaning. Of course there are many other people who have the same Christian name as me. I wonder how many of them also have a copy of this particular Bible. 

There are other moments I could tell you about. Other stories of coincidence and connection. Each of them left me with a feeling that went beyond the immediate gasp of incredulity. I'm wondering what the significance of these moments might be. Many will smile wryly and wave dismissively, saying they don't mean anything at all and others will openly scorn but I imagine Jesus seeing what's about to happen on each occasion, grinning in anticipation and thinking, 'she is going to love this!', watching in delight as the moment unfolds. I thank God for every single one of these 'coincidences'. They make me laugh. They make me smile. It's as if little tiny tears or pinprick holes appear in a veil and the sparkling, shimmering rainbow colours of heaven glint and catch your eye, 'the glory of a mystic sunlight coming directly from another world''.¹  They stir something within me and draw my attention to something invisible. The hidden things of real life in Christ become more perceptible. We are beckoned towards a more profound and deeper reality. Come farther up and farther in, to a place where colours are truest, and the light is brightest. If we are to follow the rays through the chinks, they lead to the great Source of all life, in whom all things live and move and have their being. We are connected - to each other and to Jesus.

'Christ is all that matters, and he lives in all of us.'

(Colossians 3:11)

Afer all, this is only a shadow or copy of the real world. To me, these 'coincidences' are reminders that we should think about the things of heaven, not the things of earth (Colossians 3:2). They are reminders to be watchful, alert and ready for the ultimate moment of realisation when Christ will be revealed to the whole world and we will stand in awe as we see for the first time, the breath-taking grandeur of the extent of our connectedness through him and to him. We will cry like C S Lewis's unicorn in The Last Battle, "I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it til now....Come farther up, come farther in!"

---

1 Bernard L Manning, 'Hymns of Wesley and Wyatt:Five Papers.' 1932^↩

Blossom

It was a beautiful May morning and it was Thursday. For several months, Thursday mornings were special because I spent them with my friend M and on one particular morning the cherry tree outside her house was in full bloom. It's a mature tree that spreads its branches wide over the driveway, out over the lawn and gives the most magnificent display of nature in her late spring time glory. As I sat in the chair by the window looking out at the blossom I commented how lovely it was. M responded by saying that she was so pleased that I was there to see it. In another week's time, the flowers would be past their best and I would've missed it but we were able to spend the morning chatting by the window and appreciating the splendour of the cherry blossom together.

This is M all over. Her open heart loves to share beauty with those around her and I am privileged to be able to spend time in her company. She loves to delight in the beauty of God and to share that with others. There are moments of true joy in such friendship but as the blossom of the tree soon faded so do those moments and we are left with a cherished memory and an ache in our heart.  

God, the creator and source of all beauty is at work in each of us. He gives us eyes to see the natural beauty of the visible world and a heart to feel joy in the beauty of the invisible. Surely the most beautiful things of this life are those which cannot be held onto and kept. A stunning evening sunset is no more ours to keep than the day that passes with it into the west. It is God's to make, for his own purposes and for him to look upon and say it is good. Nor can we create the beauty of holiness within ourselves, just as we cannot force the new day to rise out of the eastern horizon.

The rainbow arcs across the sky and soon fades, profound wonder at the moment of birth is overtaken by the ordinary task of living, a moment of deep understanding and empathy between two people becomes a bookmark in the story of relationship. 

'All joy reminds. 

It is never a possession, always a desire

 for something longer ago or further away or still 'about to be'  

C.S Lewis, Surprised by Joy 

Following my time with M, after the spring blossom, Thursday mornings over the summer were spent in the company of another gentle sister in Christ. For a brief time there was beauty of an invisible nature. The beauty of honesty and truth, of affirmation and encouragement, of safety and acceptance. Yet the present becomes the past and we cannot remain in the moment however much we might wish to. Joy is bittersweet and transient but the ache of passing joy reminds us that we are on a 'path that leads to a beautiful life.' Psalm 16:11. The beauty of life is a gift to enjoy and to share that with others is also a gift but ultimately this present experience will always leave us with a sense of longing. A longing for the eternal life where beauty never fades. 

'All joy emphasizes our pilgrim status; 

always reminds, beckons, awakens desire. 

Our best havings are wantings' 

C.S Lewis, Letters of C.S Lewis 

for we are not yet in that 'perfectly beautiful holy place of Zion' Psalm 50:2

Meeting in Prayer

The last chapter of my friend's thesis is finally written and as she collapses in a heap, mentally and emotionally drained from years of writing toil, we her friends gather round and pat her on the back with a hearty well done. It is a group sigh of relief and we celebrate with pretty patisserie desserts, cocktails and the essential cup of well brewed tea. We have journeyed with our friend in her labour of words, bringing her to God for inspiration, free flowing thoughts, clarity and calmness of mind.

As I was reading a borrowed copy of Sheldon Vanaulken's 'A Severe Mercy', I found these words of C S Lewis with whom Vanaulken had corresponded,

 

'It is a sweet duty, praying for our friends. I always feel as if I had had a brief meeting with you when I do so: perhaps it is a meeting, and the best kind.'

I sent these words to my thesis writing friend during the intense final leg of her marathon and from then on many of our text messages to each other included the words, 'meeting you in prayer'. Vanaulken and Lewis weren't even on the same continent as they met in prayer and as my friend, barely post-thesis, prepared to move back to Canada with her family, we would soon find ourselves in the same situation. 

There are times when we grow tired and weary, overtaken by circumstances and holding our arms up in prayer is almost beyond us. Is there any way to be a better friend to one another than taking up the sweet duty of praying for each other?

In God's Kingdom miles don't matter. We meet in the throne room of God the Father, side by side, accompanied always by Jesus in whose name we pray. A meeting of the best kind indeed because we meet together with him, the one who we eagerly look forward to meeting face to face some day.

No Drips

A dismal wet summer makes it hard to plan things like family BBQ's in the park, yet plan we did. One big get-together at the end of the holidays to also cover a birthday celebration, requires a fair amount of diary coordination but we managed it. Everyone in the same place, at the same time, on the same day. All that was left was to hope for reasonably decent weather. 

"I'll get Hannah on the weather prayers," says my sister in law.

My little niece Hannah, who is only four, always prays about the weather. If she's feeling bored indoors on a wet day, she asks God to make the rain stop so as to be able to play outside. If her daddy is going out for a run, she prays for it to be dry long enough for him to be able to pound out ten miles on the roads. Hannah prays with absolute faith that God will turn off the rain when she asks him. She doesn't think he might do it, she knows he will. So Hannah and her little brother prayed for 'no drips on Sunday' while I started to think of contingency plans and alternative venues.

I didn't believe like Hannah. My faith was in the big blue umbrella and the wellies that would keep the drips off my head and the kids' feet dry. By lunchtime the day before the BBQ, I had no suitable Plan B.

What to do?

Hannah came to mind. It occurred to me that I could pray about the weather too. Instead of smiling patronisingly at the innocence of child like faith, I could join her in prayer.

So that's what I did. I laid our weekend plans out in front of God, asked him to bless our time together with dry weather and didn't think another thought about plans B-Z.

The rest of Saturday passed by largely sunlit with just one heavy shower. 

BBQ Sunday arrived.

Let me tell you this. Our picnic table had a bottle of suncream sitting on it! Not only did it not rain but the sun beamed hot and bright all afternoon. The kids played barefoot in the grass, T shirts and hats on. The grown ups sat in fold out chairs, sleeves rolled up, sunglasses on. We munched on burgers and chocolate cake, sang happy birthday, laughed at silly things and generally had a lovely time beside the big beautiful tree in the park.

It's turned into our spot. I look forward to meeting beside the tree again next summer and in the year before 'BBQ in the park 2016', I hope we all learn to follow the lead of little Hannah in prayer. To bring all the simple every day things of life to our Father, asking for his help and blessing with the pure, resolute belief of a child, knowing that he gives abundantly out of his boundless love, knowing all things are under his control, knowing that he hears the prayers of his little ones and answers. 

To flip 1 Timothy 4:12 on its head and turn it to prayer, let's ask that we will not look down on anyone because they are young. That we will be humble enough believers to follow their example in what they say, the way they live, in how they love and in the purity of their faith. 

Let's pray for God to dry up the drips of pride and unbelief and instead ask for the rain of Deuteronomy 32:2

'Let my teaching fall on you like rain;

let my speech settle like dew. 

Let my words fall like rain on tender grass,

like gentle showers on young plants.'