Intersections

 I love it when a plan comes together.  I love the odd coincidence of someone I meet knowing someone else I know.  I love it when things turn out just right.  I love happy endings and blue skies. I always ponder what God is telling me when I experience one of those situations.

At my uncle's funeral last week I had occasion to talk to one of my cousins.  She works in an industry related to or adjacent to farming.  She lives in Chicago.  She was flying home from the funeral to get in her car and drive to Decatur, Illinois the next day.  This isn't surprising.  Decatur is good farm country.  I know, I used to live there.  My son was born there.  I taught in Decatur schools for a while.  Decatur was my town for a while.

And perhaps the only thing about this that was surprising was for me the thoughts and memories that thinking about Decatur brought.  Decatur was a part of my life that I left behind.  I was a young woman there with hopes and dreams and plans.  Now I am old and some of those plans have come to fruition, and some were left behind.  But, I was glad that my cousin told me that she was going to Decatur.  It brought back so many memories.