We are intricately woven into an orderly framework designed by God. From time to time, we get to see a glimpse of it. Here is another amazing example…

In 2006, Cecil Murphey, one of my writing mentors, told me I should find a copy of Letters by a Modern Mystic, by Frank Laubach. He knew I was working on my book and felt my writing was similar to Laubach’s. Originally published in 1937, the book was currently out-of-print. I gave up too easily.

The summer of 2007, I traveled to Cleveland to help my parents move. My mother and I were sorting through their books, deciding what to keep or give away. I came across several works by Frank Laubach and immediately asked her if she happened to have a copy of Letters by a Modern Mystic. She didn’t think so. A conversation followed:

“Mom, how did you come across this author?” I asked. “I’ve never heard of him, until recently. A writing friend told me to find that book.”

“My mother and father knew him,” she said.

I couldn’t believe my ears. “You’re kidding!”

“You remember John Peters, the founder of World Neighbors?” she asked.

“Sure.” I nodded. “Nana and Pops knew him through their church in Columbus, right?”

“Yes,” she said. “Well, Frank Laubach and John Peters were contemporaries in the mission world. They were also friends.”

“No way!” What a small-world coincidence.

My mother handed me a stack of books for the giveaway pile. “In fact,” she continued, “you were too little to remember this, but those two men came to our house on Maplewood Road. They stayed the night with us.”

“What?” I looked at her straight on.

“It’s true. And Mr. Laubach brought a blow-up globe of the world for you. He inflated it and set you on top of it. You just laughed and laughed.”

I was stunned. Though I had no memory of it, my life had actually intersected with this man. His present felt symbolic to me. Was it chance? Or was it God.

The next spring, my daughter and her husband were packing up their things in Portland, Oregon to move to Montana. I flew out to help. My son-in-law’s mother, Terry, also came. I’ll never forget the moment she walked into their apartment. After exchanging hugs, Terry said that she and her husband, Richard, had been reading an amazing book together. When they finished it, they both thought that I should have the book. The writing reminded them of me. She pulled out a copy of Letters by a Modern Mystic, by Frank Laubach. His son, Robert Laubach, had just released a smaller version of the original book.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. God had my attention now…Continue reading