I flew through life at warp speed, never really taking the time to reflect as reflection was just too painful. All of that changed the day John’s plane went down, taking his wife and her sister with it.
July 16, 1999.
My brother’s birthday.
I was working, and I sat in a corner with the newspaper. I never met John personally, but this tragedy held new meaning for all of us.
Nothing would ever be the same again.
Fast forward eighteen years. I am hiking a trail I’d walked a hundred, if not thousand times. I stop as my golden takes a drink from the creek, and for unknown reasons rub my hand over the railing. A small plastic bag containing the dogmas of Q in a typed block print had been taped underneath.
That was it. I never looked back. I knew beyond a shadow of any doubt that big and often terrifying days lay ahead. I had no choice but to follow God’s lead.
John is alive.
And yes, I have had interactions with the man.
I know what I know.
Be still, and understand that there is no such thing as coincidence. The universe will guide you, trust in that.