Some things happen too often to be a coincidence, as unpredictable and mysterious as they seem to be.

Before I was a hospice chaplain I was skeptical about such claims and thought people made things up to comfort their suffering souls. But I saw some things happen too many times to just be a coincidence.

Often unresponsive patients near death would "wait" until the last family member arrived from out of town before they, in the next few minutes, would "allow" themselves to die. I saw people rally from their death beds for one more opportunity to do spiritual work, say "good-bye" or "I love you" to their beloved spouse. As quickly as they perked up, after their work was done, they declined and slipped away.

It was a simple, little house in west Denver. The sign that welcomed people at the front door said, "As for me and my house we will serve the Lord." I noticed how immaculate and well maintained the house was. "He loved to work on his house," the family told me about their recently deceased father. "The strangest thing just happened. That coo-coo-clock hadn't worked for a long time, but just after he died, it worked again."

Not everybody gets that type of event and even when something shocking does take place no one knows for sure what it means, but it sparks hope or comfort in their souls. 

Some events change things.

When I arrived at the home where a mother just died, her four daughters, gathered in the living room, had a rush of excitement as they explained a strange event. "Mom was devout in her faith. We had wondered away from the faith we were raised in. But at the moment she passed," they shared with great enthusiasm, "Her eyes opened wide, she smiled brightly and reached up, and then she passed. We believe again."

I received an e-mail from one of our colleagues in care. Jim works with people in Grief-Share. His experience brought him comfort before and after his surgery. I took a little editorial privilege to make his e-mail fit this format.

"I am 48 years old...and am scheduled for surgery at Porter Hospital, a procedure which will require an overnight stay after the operation. 

The Sunday before I'm to enter the hospital, the sermon in church is preached on Isaiah 43 and I sit in the pew, hearing and reading the well-known words of the prophet's reassurance:

 1   But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob,
    he who formed you, O Israel:
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
    I have called you by name, you are mine.
² When you pass through the waters I will be with you;
    and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
    and the flame shall not consume you.
³ For I am the Lord your God,        Isaiah 43:1-3  RSV

And I am comforted against any fear of the coming surgery.

A couple days later I am reading my copy of "These Days" daily devotional guide, and find the same words from Isaiah. The possibility of mere happenstance - of simple coincidence is greatly reduced - surely this is God's nudge of assurance - a God-wink at a moment when most needed.

And later, the day after the successful operation, when I'm being processed for discharge, a Hospital Chaplain visits, bringing flowers and a Scriptural message - yes, Isaiah 43. As I read the sacred words passed down to us through God's Chosen Ones, any lingering thought in my mind of pure chance crumbles and falls away."

I'm not saying everyone gets a sign, but many times, when fear and sorrow overwhelm the soul, God sends a personal message that there is a story bigger than we see bringing the reassurance that He is watching and working.

As a care minister, you may have the opportunity to affirm a similar story.  Your attention to all that is going on and what they are saying will help the grieving or suffering person recognize and receive the sign that God sends just for them.

Your care matters.