When I experience God’s sovereignty in person, I feel a compulsion to tell the story to as many people as I can before I forget it—or enough times to burn it into my faulty memory. As I was telling a friend the most recent story Sunday morning, she said, “You need to write this down.”
To get the context for this story, you need to know several key facts.
1. For the first time in at least a decade, my church had no weekend services when winter storm Jonas hit. That shifted all of our planned services back one week. We have five different teachers on our speaking team, and my friend Will’s talk got bumped to this past weekend.
2. Half of my teammates on the Saturday night parking team were not able to serve this past weekend. So, I got to serve in one of my favorite spots (one I usually allow my teammates to enjoy): the slot position. That’s the person who gets to greet drivers and passengers as they exit their vehicles to head into the building.
3. I’ve been in the auction business just short of 16 years. I’ve advertised 4,500 auctions across 47 states. To my knowledge, I had never advertised a property in California until last autumn. I was honored to be part of the marketing team to advertise an equestrian estate in Montecito. Last Friday, the new owner (one of the property’s multiple celebrity neighbors) finally closed on the property.
I could hear the instruments vibrating through the walls of the church. So, I knew the Saturday night service had already started. Even though our Saturday night attendance is a fraction of any of our Sunday crowds, we stayed out in the lots for a few minutes to greet the late arrivals.
An older Lexus pulled into an empty spot, and I noticed its California plates. As the young woman closed her door, I asked, “What part of California?”
“Santa Barbara.”
“No way! I just sold a house to Oprah yesterday in Montecito.”
“Like—the real Oprah?” she asked.
I added some details to prove my claim was legitimate, and she clarified that she and her family were actually from Montecito.
“This is my first time visiting here,” she announced.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here!”
As I walked with her over to the sidewalk, I explained, “Tonight’s speaker is part of our teaching team, but he isn’t one of our pastors. He was an atheist and evolutionist who actually used to debate pastors.” I tried to explain that his miraculous journey led to a unique perspective on the night’s topic, but I don’t know if it came out like I wanted.
I don’t remember, but I think I also added what I said to a lot of people this weekend: “You’re really going to enjoy this service.”
After the service, that woman came forward to talk to Will. They prayed together about what God was stirring in her because of his message. She walked out with tears flowing down her cheeks, having done business with God. She happened to walk past me; and I blurted, “It was good to have you here with us tonight!”
Could God have used whatever next Saturday night’s talk will be to accomplish this movement in her heart? Absolutely. Could the greeting of one of my other teammates have been just as welcoming? I assume so. Could someone from 2,566 miles from here find a serendipitous connection without me doing my first auction in her home town? Totally possible.
I prefer to dwell on the potential for sovereign maneuvering.
One of the sayings we have on the parking team goes back to my driver ed instructor. “There are no accidents—only collisions.” I don’t think it was an accident that all of these situations intersected as they did. I prefer to think God planned a collision with her that night.
And with me.
I’m thankful he’s had a lot of those in the grass and on the asphalt where I serve.
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Stock image of Oprah Winfrey purchased from iStockPhoto.com.
