Remember the time you awoke after months of misunderstandings with your wife and knew exactly what she meant when she said the word brave? How you pulled her closer in bed, willing to lengthen your commute to feel her near again. Uncertain where the epiphany came from but deeply grateful to feel the palm of the best friend you’ve ever had pressed into yours like it used to.
In a season in which loneliness lay on my chest each morning like an x-ray apron, I dreamt vividly of Aslan (of Narnia) walking along a strip of thin shoreline with my (future) husband. The man was barefoot and relaxed in shorts and rolled sleeves. The two were jovial and playful like two brothers. They shared a depth in their eyes for one another. I held this image like a cliffside above the unknown sea for months.
You’ve changed lanes suddenly to dodge a not-yet danger. Stayed in at night, because upon meeting the babysitter something felt not quite right. Suddenly realized that you grew up two houses from your new Craigslist roommate and had a crush on her older brother in your adolesence.
Once as you thought of that friend who slipped away too young her favorite song came whisping from the radio and the hair stood up on your arms.
Strangers come seemingly out of the blue to offer help just when we thought, perhaps, no one ever would. And we call them angel under our breath--always halfway expectant of acknowledgment that two twitching white wings are tucked into their oatmeal-colored cardigan.
It’s hard to admit we don’t know everything, but I doubt I’m alone in putting faith in the less-than scientific. In trusting when it seems little ‘signs’ point me in a certain direction. There is clarity, and then there is intuition- a gut calling that no matter how many say left you turn right and two tables down is a woman with a smile you swear you know from somewhere. And eight months later you chatter nervously and spill your clam chowder as you feel the ring in your jeans pocket against your leg.
Life is not all black and white, factual, and calculated. There is much we can never explain and songs that rush tears to our eyes for reasons we can’t yet understand. There is hope and beauty and chance and holy coincidence. And whether you call it divine providence, subconscious processing, kismet, or another label pointing in the same direction- let’s all say it together when we see it, “wow.”
The world could use some wow, awe, and wonder. May we be the loudspeakers. May we recognize the magic.