Chance encounters

Most mornings, I make a big clever dripper of coffee which is about 16 to 18 ounces of coffee. I use an insulated metal cup to drain the coffee into and then pour hot coffee from the metal insulated cup into one of my small glass coffee cups. Anyway the other morning I noticed that when I pour the coffee from the large metal insulated cup into the small cup, if you timidly and slowly pour, it spills and makes a mess. However if you pour faster and not timidly, all but maybe one drop goes into the little cup and none is spilled. I wondered how they came up with that exact angle of the cup lip. Probably some computer program. Here I was just drinking coffee, and my mind was totally off my coffee.

Crazy how something as simple as this will pique our interest or take us off on a side road. But honestly that might not be a bad way of making our lives interesting. Growing up in Arthur, Nebraska, we were only hours away from South Dakota, so when time allowed, Mom and Dad would take the family to the Black Hills. I have lots of memories from up there. Dad was never one to take the busy roads but instead the little one-lane country gravel roads out in the toulees.

I would imagine we went to Toad Stool Park, and rather than driving back the same road, Dad decided to just head north. I really doubt Mom and Dad had a map. Matter of fact, I can't remember Dad ever looking at a map. If you have ever been up around Toad Stool Park, there isn't much out there. It's pretty in its own way, but there are cattle, dry ground pastures, and I'm betting lots of rattle snakes.

After driving several hours, the road ended up along a small clear creek or stream. Really pretty. Dad followed this for I have no idea how far but ended up driving up to a sign that said "Brainerd Indian School". Dad had to check it out so, we drove in and met some really nice folk. I was interested in the creek and fishing, but Dad and Mom were visiting. Neat place. Indian children from South Dakota would move to Brainerd Indian School and live and attend school. I thought it was really neat. I think while there we ate a meal with them.

Fast forward probably 15 to 20 years, Marge and I were spending some time in the Black Hills, and we intentionally went to the school to visit. We even stayed there a couple nights and attended a Revival Service they were holding at the time. Jump ahead a few years, and our experiences at Brainerd Indian School would be a factor in our going to Bartlesville Wesleyan College and studying for the ministry. Odd how these so-called accidental happenings or events impact our lives.

My Uncle Buster and Aunt Katie were working east of Arthur at Box Lake helping Dad put up hay. Buster was working in the hay field, and Aunt Katie was cooking. Katie needed some help, so my Mom, Katie's sister, went to Box Lake to help cook for the hay crew. This chance meeting led to Mom and Dad meeting, dating and eventually getting married. If just one cog in the scheme of things hadn't happened, Mom and Dad might not have even met.

Marge and I met a good friend and his wife in Cape Girardeau recently for breakfast. We had a good breakfast and some good coffee from Honduras. We visited for a good amount of time before we got up to leave and head our separate ways. As I was walking to the car, a friend from the past happened to be walking by. I hadn't seen him in gosh knows how many years. If I'd only had one cup of coffee or we'd visited 15 minutes less we probably wouldn't have met again.

Chance encounters may not be chance encounters. I wonder how many are actually orchestrated by God.