I read some while back that there is no such thing as coincidence, that it's all part of a Greater Plan. This is mostly true, I think, but sometimes we trip simply because we didn't pick up our feet. Sometimes we trip up because we are meant to be delayed.
I'm going to share a story with you that causes me deep embarrassment and one that I have not shared with anyone. I mean, really, it's a tale we hear all the time, shake our heads at in disbelief, and swear to ourselves that it could never happen to us because we would never be that foolish. Oh, really?
I used to date someone named Conrad (Connie); we dated for about 10 years or so before we went our separate ways. In the beginning, I was totally taken by him, his blue eyes, his winning smile, and his absolute adoration of me. Everyone who meant him described him as charming. His companionship was intoxicating and we had fun. As much as I loved my husband, Daniel, he lacked a sense of humor, his intellect being devoted to loftier pursuits, such as art, God, writing, not necessarily in that order. We could discuss world politics and play a serious game of chess. We would not particularly sit and watch a sitcom together and laugh out loud.
Anyway, that's a different story. Connie was fun and attentive and he liked to explore and imagine. He chased rainbows and I chased them with him because I believed he was capable of doing anything he set his mind to. We dreamed together.
He always wanted to be his own boss, he had considerable insurance agency experience and he decided to buy an insurance agency. It seemed like a natural course and one that would be successful. He called and asked he could borrow money from me. I said no. The first time.
His mother and his best friend mortgaged their homes for him and he asked me again. I could see how seriously he believed in himself and his ability, and my faith in him was no less than his in himself. So, I agreed to take a second mortgage out on my house.
There were roadblocks along the way, but isn't there always when one is doing a big financial transaction like this? I dismissed them as each roadblock was overcome.
The night before we were to go to the bank to pass papers, Connie realized he had left the house deed in Connecticut where he lived. I was living in Massachusetts, and now it was a three hour drive to go and retrieve the deed. He called his house and fortunately his nephew was there and agreed to meet us halfway, in Rhode Island.
We get to the lawyer's office. Their fax is down and they don't know when it will be fixed, and there is paperwork that needs to be faxed between their office and a bank in New York. We decide to wait. The fax comes back on line.
My name is misspelled throughout all the documents. It's that "i" before "e" thing that throws people off with my last name. Corrections were made.
The entire conversation was directed towards Connie, even though the mortgage was in my name! The loan officer referred to Connie as Mr. Seafood (his last name had a similar sound, but it's definitely not Seafood. She must've been hungry as it was nearing lunchtime by now.)
Then the percentage rate of the mortgage is incorrect. More corrections, more delays. I am now panicked at this transaction but it is too late to back out. Finally we (I!!) receive the check but we cannot find anyone locally to cash it because I don't have enough money in savings to clear it, and he needed the money in two days to close the sale on the insurance agency.
So off we go to New York where the bank is located. The first bank will not cash their own check. We go to two of their satellite branches until we find one that will cash it.
I'm not going to tell you the rest of this, you can surmise the rest and you'll probably be right.
I share my story only because I want to impress that those roadblocks were there for a reason. I was not supposed to remortgage my house. It was not my responsibility to make Connie's dreams come true regardless of how deeply I cared for him and how much I believed in his ability. What Connie thought were challenges to be overcome were, in fact, detour signs. .
Then again, if Edison quit after his 9999th try at inventing a long-lasting light bulb, and didn't try that 10,000th time, I'd be writing this in the dark today.
Now you understand my dilemma.
On a different note, I posted before about the loss of my Bengal kitty, Longfellow. Even now, I sit here and struggle with tears, causing my other cats to weave in and out between my legs, head butting my forehead, and wiggling under my hands so I can stroke them. Inexplicably, the other day I found a leaf under my chair where I sit at my computer and I had the distinct sensation of a strong silky body rubbing up against the calf of my leg, only no kitty was there. The sadness does not seem to leave me. In my own silent prayer, I have asked for an answer to what happens to animals that we shared love with.
Quite by accident, I happened upon a website that referenced Luke 3:6 and Luke 12:16. The author of the post said the scriptures were in reference to animals. Now I personally think that the "all flesh" referred to in Luke 3:6 means mankind (and there are interpretations that translate it to mean "mankind") but I did find solace in Luke 12:16 where two sparrows are sold for five pennies but God remembers them.
I'm not going to be pig-headed this time and ask for a billboard with my name on it, declaring that this is the divine answer to my question. I believe that God remembers because He said so.
Now if I could just figure out the answers to the other questions I have on my mind. Perhaps the answer is, if it doesn't flow easily, I shouldn't be doing it?