Leaving Hamilton College after his interview and tour of its campus, my son and I drove away just as a thunderstorm was clearing. “Mom, look! A rainbow,” Rob pointed through the windshield and upwards.
“It’s a double!” I replied excitedly.
“Do you think that’s a sign?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” I nodded and grinned. His 15th reunion is coming up this spring.
He knows me well enough now to barely need to ask. Hiring a caretaker for his new son nearly two years ago, he told me that the referring parents’ names were Anne and Rob, exactly the same as his and my daughter-in-law Anne’s. “I’m sure you’re going to say it’s a sign.”
Again, I simply smiled. They’ve had the most wonderful woman tending Owen since they interviewed her.
One of my New York City friends has a business making signs. “It’s very simple and straightforward,” he explained. “A sign has no depth. It’s intended to give information quickly and succinctly. And it has to be perfect.”
Who are we to question what we see on our journeys? The nay-sayers can call it coincidence all they want. I’ve heard coincidence called God’s way of remaining anonymous. I choose to notice and give high regard to the signs in front of me and my clients.
Do you need a burning bush? What has been put in your path lately? I’d love to know.