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Twice in the last 48 hours God has winked at me. They were wry little winks – ones of the sort that I might normally miss.
This evening a friend who I haven’t heard from in months and months texted me and said I’d been on his heart and that “Our Papa” put me there. This afternoon I thought of my friend and two nights ago he was in a dream I had – first one I ever remember him guest starring in – and last night I picked up The Shack, the little book that is making referring to God as “Papa” all the rage.
Little things. Tiny things. Things certainly explainable by chance or quarks or quacks. But things too that have the distinct feel of winks from God. It is all a matter a choice really. Do I choose to believe that God winks? Or do I choose to believe everything is a matter of science and that’s that. I choose winks no matter how naive or how much of a simpleton that might make me.