When a Coincidence Isn’t Just a Coincidence

When you pay attention to the small things, you might just see God at work.

I got into a habit a few years ago that has helped me to notice when God might be doing something around me. Say I have conversations with a few different people, and the same topic keeps coming up. Or a random story or event gets referenced three or four times over the course of several days. I’ll take time to ask God if he is saying or doing something that I am supposed to notice.

Sometimes a coincidence is a coincidence. But when coincidences repeat or build on each other, there is often something else going on.

Searching for Home

Over the June bank holiday weekend, our family went to Westport for three nights. Despite our first experience there 15 years ago, I love Westport and do not get there nearly enough.

Our plan was not to have any plans. Our lives have felt very regimented of late, and Liz and I wanted a whole weekend where we could do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted.

On Sunday, Liz decided to head over to Co. Sligo to find the house where her mom grew up. The three of us got in the car and drove towards Tobercurry. The townland, Rhue, where her mom grew up, was punched into Apple Maps, but at the last minute, Liz decided that we would head to Eskragh instead. Eskragh is the townland where her grandfather, Michael Murtagh, grew up.

After misspelling Eskragh a couple of times, I got us rerouted, and we quickly had to turn onto one of those roads unsuited for two-way traffic. A few minutes later, it became evident that we were in someone’s driveway.

Liz eventually found a place to turn around. Well, that’s when the coincidences started happening

(Actually, the last-minute decision to change destinations was the first coincidence.)

A Stranger Really is Just Someone You Haven’t Met Yet

As we got ourselves turned around, a white van pulled up behind us and blocked our way. My first thought was, “Oh crap, now we are going to have to explain to someone why we are trespassing on their property.”

As she often does on these family history quests, Liz hops out of the car to have a chat.

If I went to Kingston, PA, walked up to people in the neighbourhood where my dad grew up, and asked if anyone remembered where the Wilsons lived in the 1940s, people would look at me like I was speaking a foreign language.

However, in rural Ireland, Liz regularly finds someone who knows of her family.

“Ah, the Murtaghs!”

It turns out that your man in the van owns the farm we have driven onto. He was working in town and was not supposed to be home at that time.

Coincidence Number 2.

He knew the family name, but wasn’t sure where the house was. So he calls John from down the lane.

John had just gotten on his motorcycle and was about to head into town when his phone rang. Within two minutes, he met us and invited us to his farm.

Coincidence Number 3.

As we turned onto his driveway, he got off his motorcycle, opened a metal gate and waved us in. It was pretty secluded, and there were a lot of mechanical parts around the garage.

John walked down the path, and we followed along in our car as he kept waving us along. There were a couple of moments when I asked Liz, “Do you think he is leading us in here to kill us?”

I was half joking.

We eventually came to a clearing where we saw this:

This is what remains of Liz’s grandfather’s childhood home.

No one has lived here for more than a century.

At the far left, you can see the only end of the home that remains standing. The rocks (other than the concrete blocks) are what remains of the place. Liz was able to take a few stones home as souvenirs.

Liz and John had a long conversation, and Liz learned several interesting family facts that she had never heard. She may want to share them someday, but they are not my stories to tell.

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Imagine you had never seen your grandparents’ home. And one day, through a series of circumstances, you are not only standing on the property, but also hearing stories about your family.

Wouldn’t that be an incredible gift?

That day in Sligo felt like one of those gifts.

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I believe God does stuff like this simply because he loves to bless his children. And I think that says something about who he is.

There are corners of the church where, for God to do something for you, you must earn it.

I don’t believe Liz stored up enough credits that enabled God to bless her this way.

But I think God loves her and just wanted to give her an incredible experience that she (and her family) will never forget!

I grew up with a God that required me to earn his favour — a God more focused on punishing me for the slightest deviation from his will, than showing random kindness.

I prefer a God who delights in blessing his children for no reason other than that they are his and he loves them.

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A few more photos of the day:

The Murtagh's