I was smacked by the miraculous last Saturday. The Aspen trees were gilded in gold along the mountains in Buena Vista, CO as I drove to my grandfather’s memorial service. He was a tree farmer and I had the distinct feeling that all those trees had dressed in their finest to celebrate his life. I had the distinct privilege of saying a few words as the eldest grandchild and so I shared a portion of what I posted last week in the blog; namely, that while I haven’t developed a love for planting trees, my eleven-year-old son has. Mystery of mysteries.
Although they hardly knew each other, my son has some of his great-grandfather’s loves coursing through his veins. As you may have read in last week’s blog post, my grandfather sent a package of seeds that he had collected many decades ago and my son planted those seeds on the day my grandfather died. So this is a direct quote from what I said to all those people at the memorial service: “Who knows if they’ll take? But I know that if they don’t, it won’t be my son’s fault. He goes out most mornings in the dark, before school, and waters them from a spray bottle he stole from his mother’s stuff.”
Oh ye of little faith.
Twenty minutes after the service, we were all enjoying a luncheon hosted by my grandfather’s church. I was in the middle of a sandwich when I received this text from my ecstatic son: “Dad, we have four Japanese and one Australian growing. Yea!”
That’s right! On the day of my grandfather’s memorial service, those seedling broke through the ground as a grand gesture of new life and reminder to those of us with fragile faith of God’s sovereignty.
Some might call it “dumb luck” or “chance.”
Seriously? I call it a God who delights in the details. He lavishly flings forth such remarkable, unmistakeable, glimpses into his soveriegnty. If he pulled back the curtain and showed us all he has done and continues to do, down to the most minute detail, we would be unmade on the spot.
So I thank God for my grandfather, yes, but I give greater thanks for a God who decided it would be pretty cool to have my grandfather’s seeds break ground on the day of his memorial service.
God delights in the details! Mystery of mysteries.