When I was a very new Christian and other Christians who were mature in their faith would tell a story and end it with “…isn’t that crazy? It was just a God thing”, I would always sit back and wonder. Was whatever happened to them a “God” thing or was it just happenstance; a coincidence or a lucky break? At the time, I wasn’t really sure. I wasn’t really dialed in to how God moves in our lives.
noun1.a striking occurrence of two or more events at one time apparently by mere chance.
When It’s Crystal Clear In Anaheim, California, Mavis Jackson drove past the Crystal Cathedral. For twenty years, she said the same thing: “Someday I’m going to go there.”
One Sunday morning, she did. Putting on her best outfit, she simply decided, “Today is the day.”Getting there early, Mavis took a seat in the middle and watched the huge three thousand-seat megachurch fill with people. She was awed as the majestic voices of the choir seemed to encircle her. She marveled at the manner in which a huge section of the glass ceiling slid open at the start of the worship was if to invite even the birds to worship.
At the end of the service, Mavis stood up and waited for the aisle to clear. Trying not to sound too excited, she said to the young lady next to her, “I am so glad I came today. Wasn’t it wonderful?”
The young woman nodded.“Are you from here?” asked Mavis.“No, I’m from the Midwest,” said the young woman adding, “I’m actually here on a mission. To find my birth mother.”
There was a pause.
“I know how you must feel,” said Mavis. “A long time ago, I had to give up a little girl for adoption. I didn’t want to…but…”
The young woman looked deeply into Mavis’s eyes.
“Do you…remember her birthday?”
“Yes,” said Mavis cautiously. “October 30th.”
“That’s my birthday,” gasped the young woman.
They sat down.
The young woman introduced herself as Cheryl Wallace.Cheryl explained that for years she had been haunted by the lingering uncertainty of not knowing who her birth mother was and, more important, why her mother had given her up.
In her small midwest town, everyone was discouraging.
“You’re looking for a needle in a haystack,” counseled the town clerk.
“There’s no trace of her,” said others.
Eventually a suggestion from someone who thought she’d once heard that Cheryl’s birth mother had moved to Orange County, California, led her to this time and place.
Even on her most optimistic days, Cheryl never could have forecast such a remarkable outcome–that such uncertainty would end in such certainty, in a manner that only God could have made happen.
And when they confirmed that their wonderful miracle was true–that they were long-lost mother and daughter–they knew that Mother’s Day would never be the same again.