Do you ever wonder why things happen the way they happen?
Do you ever stop and think... now, if I'd just turned right, instead of going straight, x, y, or z could've happened, but it didn't... Q happened instead.
I want to say that in life, there are no random happenings. I want to propose to you that there is no luck, no fate, and certainly no coincidence.
God has numbered the hairs upon our heads. He has also paved our own individually unique pathways for each of us. Whether they be paved with brick, concrete, or mossy-covered sharp stones and slippery pond scum here and there between the grassy knolls, God has directed each path, for a purpose.
It is here, in the path that He has chosen for us, that we can see miracles open up like the petals on a unique and glorious flower. Take a look around. Who is next to you? Who do you have a conversation with on the phone?
Are you simply canceling a doctor's appointment, or are you meant to speak and connect with that receptionist? Is there something in her life that you can nourish; provide sustenance? Have you ever stopped to think about it?
Taking our eyes off of ourselves, our agendas, our human goals... we see... them. All the people that God has singlehandedly placed in our midst. To share life with. To grow with. To encounter.
Whom have you encountered today? Last week? Month? Have you taken your eyes off of your iPhone long enough to see the hurting world? The questions in their eyes? The need for compassion? The urgency for love? The plea for something... Something more than this world has to offer?
Enjoying the beauty of God's miraculous flowers unfurling, before our very eyes, to soak up the warmth of His son... those brilliant rays of truth, those healing bands of Light... it is but a tiny miracle for us to marvel at.
So go ahead. Open up. Look around. Who do you see? What do you hear? Where will you turn? When will you begin?
Moment by moment... little by little... we endure each awkward pause, each tiny baby step into the unknown, each breath and creaky vocal strain of our infantile gestures to reach out to an unending field of unopened flower buds, just waiting, waiting, to burst forth. To share their own uniqueness with another, and to see the beauty again and again with each revealed treasure.
Always a purpose.
Always a plan.
If we simply stop to look around,
Hear the whisper on the wind.