Signs, Signs, Everywhere There Are Signs

I don't write about God very often here.

I try to keep my writing light hearted and uplifting.  I hope that I can make you laugh  . . . or spit out your coffee.  Because of this, you may think that God is not a part of my life.

And, you would be wrong.

My relationship with God is one of my sturdy and steadying forces in my life.   In fact, many days I recognize that He is talking to me.  But before you go off thinking that I am hearing voices or speaking in tongues, I am talking about how God uses signs to speak to me.

Signs, signs, everywhere there are signs.

What?

You don't believe me?

Try this.

This weekend, the family traveled to Western Pennsylvania for hub's family reunion.  We were approximately 6 hours from our home.  We were supposed to stay with one of hub's relatives, but we decided against it.  Instead, the plan was to drive a few hours down the road, grab a hotel, and make the rest of the trip the next day.  Except after driving a few hours and calling hotel after hotel,  we were out of luck. 

Everything was booked.

The kids were getting sleepy and hubs and I decided to grab some coffee so that we could just drive through the night home.  I pulled off at the next exit, and as I did, I noted that we were actually in my dad's hometown.  And, while I had never lived there myself, I had spent many a summer there with cousins and family, and this little town always felt like home. 

 Weird, right?

So, I drove to the nearest gas station, which hubs promptly rejected.  "They don't have good coffee, "he explained.  He directed me to the nearby BP and I maneuvered the car up to that gas pump.

It was then that I noticed the car at the next pump.  It was a cute, little, 4 door sedan with personalized plates, and there was a petite blond woman pumping gas. 

It was my favorite Aunt Joanie.

She was on a break from work,  and she had decided to get gas in her car to get away for a bit.

We ended up at the same gas station at the same time . . .and she wanted us to stay at her home.

A God moment, right? 

Probably.

Except I didn't see it that way right then.  I just thought that it was a great coincidence.  We exchanged hugs and kisses, laughed about the situation, and then we went on our way home.

And in the dark, with my family sleeping and hubs driving, I watched cornfield after cornfield zip  by the car window and I realized I had been blind.

Duh.

Apparently, in order for me to see a sign from Him, God would have to emblazon a billboard with a flashing arrow and my name, because all the subtle little coincidences didn't do it.

My family had been in need, God had provided for us, and I had not recognized the signs.

I felt like an idiot.

But a humble idiot that will now try just a bit harder to listen to that little voice inside me and to open my eyes to the signs, whatever they may be.


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