For their whole lives, my teenage daughters have heard me talk about the idea of fate and how God is constantly talking to us, but that it’s up to us to have a willingness to listen. Mostly these little lessons have been met with some yawns. Yeah yeah, Dad, we get it.
Only, they don’t. Few people do, I’d guess. Hell, I’ve had to learn this over 52 years, and I still have to remind myself daily.
Last night we were heading into town for a basketball game. It’s a ten minute drive from our house. As we pulled out of our driveway and started down our little 25 mph street, a moving truck was stuck in the middle of the road. It looked like they were trying to turn around in someone’s driveway, but misinterpreted the turn radius. So we sat and watched the driver reverse-turn-drive-reverse-turn-drive a few times before finally getting unstuck. Vehicles were backed up on both sides. As we waited, our daughters grew frustrated.
“Maybe there’s a crazy driver on the highway that we were going to encounter and this is saving us?” I said, trying to make the best of the situation–but also believing it.
“What do you mean,” a daughter asked. I explained (again) about fate, which I’m sure was met with rolling eyes, but it was dark and I can’t say for certain.
A block down the street, as we waited at a light to enter onto the highway, a fire truck flew past with lights flashing and siren raging. And wouldn’t you know it, it entered onto the highway in the direction we were headed.
We rode the rest of the way to the game on back roads. And in silence.
Sometimes life is magic.
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