More Serendipitous Steering Currents of Spirituality

Earlier this week, I wrote a t-shirt poem with my writing group, led by Britt Decker of Houston, Texas with a prompt and a challenge: find a t-shirt hanging in your closet and let it inspire your poem.

So I did. I’d purchased a shirt in November 2022 while in Anaheim for the National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE) Convention – royal blue in color, with a red heart and white lettering that says Your Story Matters. I took a picture of it and wrote a simple index card poem, 3×5, three lines with five syllables each:

Your Story Matters

you're a child in God's
great universe so
your story matters

Last week, I shared a post about the serendipitous steering currents of spirituality – those moments of confirmation along the way when we realize fully, without a fraction of a percent of doubt, that He is on the path ahead of us, beside us, and behind us, directing our footsteps and assuring us that He is at work in our lives and all around us, holding the pen, guiding His children.

In my travels this week, I was given the unique opportunity to visit one of my daughters and her friends who attend a devotional and women’s Bible study each morning as part of the continuing recovery and restoration of their lives. They rise early, get coffee, and come together for a time of meditation and devotion. After about 20 minutes of quiet time, one opens in prayer, and then shares insights from the devotion and quiet time, along with an I AM statement.

My daughter opened the devotions on this particular day. She had read a devotion about being a child of God, and how being born into a family of Christians didn’t buy her salvation any more than someone born in a garage made that person an automobile. Her place in the family of God comes only through her belief in him, confession of her sins, and desire to follow Him. She shared her focus verses for the morning – John 1: 12-13.

We went around the table, each sharing our thoughts, and when the last woman shared, she talked about the power of our stories in shaping others and encouraging them.

After the closing prayer, I opened my blog post and showed my daughter the poem. “Did you write that today?” she asked.

“No, I wrote this earlier in the week, ” I explained.

I wish I had a picture of her expression – a perfect photo of the serendipitous steering currents of spirituality.

The Serendipitous Steering Currents of Spirituality

My dad, a pastor, frequently travels back to former churches to officiate at weddings or funerals or to serve as a guest speaker. Sometimes in our early morning conversations, he shares updates about people and happenings along his always-interesting encounters. Recently, we got on the topic of the serendipitous steering currents of spirituality – – those seemingly innocent coincidental moments when you realize that divine intervention has put you exactly in the right place at the right time, where long-awaited answers or answers to questions you never asked come when you least expect them.

Throughout his career, Dad collaborated with his own preacher father on a number of sermons, including one about Joseph of Arimathea. He’s recently been going through his files, deciding which hard copies to keep and which to let go. He’d set this one aside, pondering all its possibilities.

Later that same week, he’d returned to a former church for a funeral when a member asked if he remembered that particular sermon on Joseph of Arimathea he’d preached two decades earlier.

“Yes, Charles, ” he answered, “I do remember that sermon. I’ve preached it probably ten times in my career, and it’s interesting you’re mentioning it – I’ve had it on my mind lately to become part of a series I’ll be preaching in the coming weeks.”

Charles paused briefly, then shared, “It changed my life.”

The serendipitous steering currents of spirituality come when we least expect them, whether we’ve searched the clouds looking for answers to burning questions in words written like skywriting from airplanes or whether we never even got as far as asking the question and felt only the gentle nudge that caused us to set aside an idea to return to it later.

And no matter how they establish their presence, we recognize these divine connections and welcome them as guiding lights along the path.