Early last year, I read a book called When God Winks at You, a book about how God uses the power of coincidence to communicate with us.  The author refers to significant yet seemingly coincidental events that happen in our lives as “God Winks.”  And although it may be easy to insist that such events are simply random coincidences, a number of the stories shared throughout the book are so over the top that it would be hard to not at least consider that something bigger is at play.

As I read through the book, I reflected on my own life and began to identify several things from throughout the years that could easily be dubbed as God Winks.  Unfortunately, most of them were from many years ago, which made me reflect on what might’ve changed.

Was it my attitude?  Expectation?  Awareness?  All of these things?

Regardless, I started to feel like I was missing out.  I didn’t want my God Winks to be limited to the “glory days” of my younger years.  I’m happy to say that a few interesting things have happened since reading the book and pondering all of this.  I want to talk about one of them.

A couple months ago, it was time for me to clean out the pool and get it ready for summer.  But before I continue, let me back up.  My family lives in a 100-year-old house that we bought from a widow who had lived here for 45 years.  She and her husband raised their seven kids here, so there’s lots of history and over the years we’ve come across reminders of that history.

Not long after we moved in, we were overhauling the front yard.  While we were digging and planting, we came across an old-school key buried in the dirt.  My wife brought it inside and attempted to clean it.  It was so rusted that it was almost hard to recognize what it was, but it was still really cool.

It remained on display on the windowsill until one day I made the brilliant decision to use it to try to lock one of the old doors in our house.  The brittle, rusted key snapped right in half.  And my marriage was never the same.

Okay, so my poor judgment call didn’t actually wreak havoc on my marriage, but it was a bummer.  My wife has often commented since then about how she misses the key.  We both do.  And even though we could easily buy one from an antique store or elsewhere, it just wouldn’t be the same.

Back to the present.

We’re relatively new pool owners and it was my first time cleaning the pool of the slimy sludge that collects over the fall and winter, so I wasn’t sure of the smartest and most effective way to tackle the job.  It started out as a complete pain – a messy, stinky one – and I was fighting against thoughts that we shouldn’t have ever even bought a pool in the first place.

Then my wife came outside, saw that I was struggling, and casually suggested that I use the shop vac.  Ah right, the wet/dry vac.  Perfect!  (Yes, sometimes the obvious escapes me.)

I got the shop vac out and as I was emptying it and getting it ready, I heard a rattling sound inside the hose.  I shook the hose and watched a couple small nails fall out, which was no surprise.  But the rattle persisted, so I shook the hose again.  And what fell out next was perplexing.

An old-school key.

I was stunned.

At first I thought maybe it was plastic.  You know, something that came from a kid’s toy.

Part of me knew that wasn’t likely, but I had a desperate need for an explanation.  In the split second that followed, an entire internal debate took place around whether or not it was a feasible explanation.

Silencing the internal voices, I reached down and picked up the key.

Lo and behold, it was real.

Not plastic.  Not a toy.

Not dirty or rusted or scratched or chipped.

Not something I’d ever laid eyes on before.

And certainly not something I would’ve casually vacuumed up without realizing it.

The thing is, I’ve shaken the hose out many times before.  Quite recently, in fact.  So the key couldn’t have been in there for long.

We’ve lived here longer than 10 years and it’s hard to imagine that this key has been here all along, hiding out in an area I’ve vacuumed many times before, only to just recently wind up in the path of the shop vac.  Sure, I guess it’s possible.  And the logical part of me wants to say that even though that explanation seems rather unlikely, it’s more likely than some kind of cosmic, divine nudge of encouragement.

But on the other hand, the entire point of the God Winks book is to wake us up to the fact that things like this actually do happen.

The author of the book makes it clear that these “coincidences” we experience transcend all boundaries of culture, time, faith, and religion.  Not only are they clear indicators that the small details of our lives matter, but that God is intimately involved, if only we’d open ourselves up to the possibility.

As someone who has worn the label of “Christian” for the better part of my life, I’ve certainly experienced many incredible things that could fall into the “God Wink” category.  But as years went on, the innocence and purity of my faith grew tainted.

As various beliefs about the nature of God and about who and what God truly values began to form and take root, my faith wound up contained to a rather small box, one that I naturally assumed God was living in as well.

It was a box that really didn’t leave room for events that seemed trivial or trite when compared to the things that I believed truly mattered to God, like the eternal state of someone’s soul.

The notion that God was living in the same box as me is ridiculous, of course.  Thankfully, in the last couple years, that box has been obliterated (rather painfully, I might add).  As a result, I’m open to seeing God show up in ways I might not have in very a long time.

So with this mysterious incident involving the key, it seems I have a choice.  I can try to find a logical solution and hold onto it.  Or I can simply be open to the fact that maybe something bigger and more mysterious did happen.

Maybe it wasn’t merely a random coincidence.

I’m not sure what to make of it, but for now, I’m choosing to see it as a reminder to let go and trust, because sometimes the things we hope to have or to experience show up in the most unexpected places.

And in ways that defy logic and expectation.