No Coincidences

Category: Uncategorized

  • Hook

    Hook

    I watch a lot of old movies from my childhood with my daughters now. I think Ivy has already started not taking me seriously when I say, “This is one of my favorite movies ever.” But Hook is really one of my favorite movies ever.

    Sometimes you forget that others did not live your childhood. When I heard Beth had seen Hook maybe one time through in her life, I was shocked. I’ve probably watched it from beginning to end at least 3 dozen times. Back in the day if you had a VHS of a movie it became an automatic watch at least a dozen times.

    For those who aren’t familiar with the movie Hook, it tells the story of a Peter Pan that left Neverland to marry Wendy Moira Angela Darling’s granddaughter. Peter is grown up now and has forgotten who he once was. It has Robin Williams as Peter Pan, Dustin Hoffman as Hook, and Julia Roberts as Tinker Bell. I never realized it was a Steven Spielberg film.

    I watched it recently with my girls. It’s been a while since I’ve watched it. This was the first time I’ve seen it since having kids. Some things stood out to me in my new “dad of three” mind. 

    In the movie, Peter Pan has become an important person. He works in “mergers and acquisitions.” It sounds like he works in major corporate takeovers. As Jack, Peter’s nine-year-old son, describes what Peter does for work, Wendy, who is now extremely old, mutters, more to herself than to anyone, “Peter, you’ve become a pirate.”

    Which led to the first thing from the movie that made me think, the first major theme. In Neverland, there are two main categories: Pirate or Child. A pirate steals, plunders, and is generally bad. The children, while not perfect, are, well, children. They are kind, playful, and forgiving. The children are good. Everything is a game to them. The children are filled with joy. The pirates are filled with hate. The Pirates and the Children in Neverland are diametrically opposed.

    There is a moment where Captain James Hook is considering suicide. He is musing about how he has no purpose and no meaning and just can’t take this life anymore. The film makes it clear this isn’t the first time this has happened. 

    The children on the other hand, despite their meager existence, have joy simply from living.

    There is a statement made throughout the film, “Death is the last great adventure.” We’ve all heard this statement. The movie emphasizes that it is the Pirates, the adults, who dwell on and obsess over death. The children never talk this way. To them life is the adventure. Every day for the children is filled with joy and fun. They’re not looking forward to death, they are too busy thinking about life.

    Adults as “bad” and children as “good.” But why? As a stressed out, often frustrated, often impatient husband and father, I heard what the movie was telling me. I am a pirate. The three little girls I’m surrounded by every day are pure joy, adventure, and curiosity. I am not bad. But my pirate tendencies are. My girls are good. 

    There’s a moment in Neverland when Peter’s kidnapped daughter starts singing out over the pirate city. She’s singing a lullaby that her mother used to sing to her. The pirates have forgotten their mothers. The pirates have forgotten what it’s like to be a child. As the young girl sings, the hardened, mean, tough pirates stop. They stare. Some weep. 

    Be ye as little children. The pirates had forgotten what it is to be a child. 

    The movie is about finding joy despite the mundane nature of life. The movie reminds us to not be pirates. Be children. Play, run, laugh.

    Finally, at the climax of the movie, Peter needs to remember who he was, or he’ll lose everything. He needs to have a happy thought. He’s been so obsessed with work and success for so long, he doesn’t remember where true happiness lies. He remembers being a father. He remembers the births of his two children. This is his happy thought: being a father. This is what allows him to fly. This is what allows him to defeat the pirates and be Peter Pan again. It’s this thought that allows him to be like a child again. 

    In the last scene of the movie, Wendy is standing at the window with Peter and his family. She says, “Your adventures are over.” Peter replies, “Oh no, to live, to live will be an awfully big adventure.”

  • Profession of Faith

    Profession of Faith

    *Before I post this I want to unequivocably say that I respect any church and its teachings, especially if they bring people and families closer to Jesus Christ. I don’t get to interact with teenagers much outside of coaching, but from what I’ve seen with the girls I’ve gotten to coach at two catholic schools, they are kind, compassionate, intelligent, awesome young women.

    When I started coaching basketball at my second catholic high school, I had to sign a Profession of Faith.

    I started reading through the document.

    “I believe in one God, the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible.”

    Okay, yeah, I can get behind that, we’re off to a good start.

    “I believe in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Only Begotten Son of God, born of the Father before all ages.”

    We’re good here. This is going to be easier than I thought!

    “God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, consubstantial with the Father;”

    Wait, hold on, what’s that word mean?

    Consubstantial: “Of the same substance or essence (used especially of the three persons of the Trinity in Christian theology).

    Uh oh.

    But wait. Didn’t I just say I believe in one God, the Father almighty? Also, I believe in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Only Begotten Son of God?

    “through him all things were made. For us men and for our salvation he came down from heaven, and by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and became man. For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate, he suffered death and was buried, and rose again on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures. He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father.”

    Yes! Exactly. Seated at the right hand of the Father. Okay, we’re back on track again.

    “He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead and his kingdom will have no end. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son, who with the Father and the Son is adored and glorified, who has spoken through the prophets.”

    Yeah! Okay, this is great!

    “I believe in one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church.”

    Uh oh.

    “I confess one Baptism for the forgiveness of sins and I look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Amen.”

    I wholeheartedly agree (does the Catholic Church have one baptism? I personally don’t know, I’m curious… to Google we go… quick Google search says no, the Catholic Church does not have one method of baptism).

    “With firm faith I also believe everything contained in God’s word, written or handed down in tradition and proposed by the Church, whether by way of solemn judgment or through the ordinary and universal magisterium, as divinely revealed and calling for faith.”

    Another word I have to look up, let’s see.

    Magisterium: “the teaching authority of the Roman Catholic Church, especially as exercised by bishops or the Pope.”

    Hmm.

    “I also firmly accept and hold each and every thing that is proposed definitively by the Church regarding teaching on faith and morals.”

    Uhm, I’m not sure. But I hope we can agree on principles of faith and morals.

    “Moreover, I shall always teach in accord with the Official Magisterium of the Church as it is proclaimed by the Pope and the College of Bishops.”

    …

    I then re-read it to see if I could make it work. I kept coming back to this:

    “God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, consubstantial with the Father; through him all things were made. For us men and for our salvation he came down from heaven, and by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and became man. For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate, he suffered death and was buried, and rose again on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures. He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father.”

    How can Christ be consubstantial with the Father and then sit on His right hand?

    “I believe in one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church.”

    That one I couldn’t wiggle around. I don’t believe that.

    This wasn’t going to work. I couldn’t sign this. I so looked forward to coaching at this new school. I looked forward to continuing our work as a coaching staff. I looked forward to a new group and new challenges, though I’d miss my girls at St. Mary’s so much. I was excited to coach closer to home. I was excited to start taking Ivy to practice with me so she could hopefully start to develop a love for basketball like I had.

    I had to call Patricia and tell her we had a problem, that I couldn’t sign the Profession of Faith.

    I picked up my phone to call Patricia to see if there were any options available to us. I hit dial. The phone rang. I scrolled down a little bit more on my  screen and saw this:

    “FOR NON-CATHOLICS

    Roman Catholic Diocese of Phoenix
    Division of Education and Evangelization
    Profession of Faith

    I accept and hold each and every thing that is proposed definitively by the Catholic Church regarding teaching on faith and morals.“

    Patricia answered.

    “Never mind, we’re in the clear!”

    She was confused. I explained. All I had to do was enter the church I belonged to and I was good.

    How grateful I was for that last part, that I could submit my belief and move on. Was I prepared to refuse to sign that Profession of Faith? Yes, I was. I could not deny what I know. I couldn’t sign something I didn’t believe to be true.

    As I thought more about this, I thought more about the United States of America. How grateful I am to belong to a free country. How grateful I am to have the first amendment of the U.S. Constitution which grants me freedom of religion. How grateful I am that, even at a Catholic high school, which I just detailed might have some strong opinions about my beliefs, I can still click “other religion,” enter what church I belong to, and an institution with different beliefs accepts that. I am grateful for different beliefs. I am grateful for different opinions. I am grateful for debate and disagreement – as long as it is done with love. I am grateful for freedom.

    I’ve now coached three seasons at this new school. Of course there have been no issues. I hope through my example and love I can teach these girls about becoming great young women. I don’t proselytize them.

    It’s ended up being an amazing transition and I’m glad I’ve gotten to coach at a great Catholic high school. Andddd I checked with Patricia before posting this, just to be safe.

  • Good Samaritan Mechanic

    Good Samaritan Mechanic

    I referenced our “van issues” in this post about our trip to Six Flags in April 2024. It is a story worth telling even all this time later. The six hour drive turned into 10 hours. This is how.

    We were planning to drive to California. The van was packed and ready to go. 

    Beth had started not feeling well the day before. As our time for leaving approached, she voiced more concern about how she was feeling. I reassured her that she would be okay once we got going.

    We didn’t get far before Beth said she couldn’t do it. She was too sick to be in the car for 6 hours to California. 

    Back home we went. We dropped off Beth and quickly unloaded her essentials. When Six Flags beckons, only the strong survive (just kidding Beth *mwah). 

    Back on the road we went. Just me and my two little girls.  

    We purchased the van we were driving from Beth’s parents. It drove well and had a brand-new engine but had some aesthetic issues. As we were driving Ivy began the drive with her normal excitement about our trip. It didn’t take long for her and Sage to both be asleep. In the quiet I started to hear things. A scraping sound was coming from the bottom of the van. 

    I pulled over and looked at the front of the van. It looked okay. Then I noticed a protective wheel well liner, the protective covering near tires, was flapping. That’s what was dragging. It seemed okay so I kept driving. I was paying close attention and noted that it started to make a very disconcerting noise if I got to 65 miles per hour or above. I couldn’t drive to California going less than 65 the whole way. 

    This led to me literally doing a back and forth exercise for the next 45 minutes. I drove ahead a little, I turned around, I called my mom, I turned back around for California, I called my dad, I pulled over and looked again, I turned back around for home, I turned back around for California.

    Like the wheel well liner, I was torn on what to do. Six Flags was waiting! Only the strong survived! Was I going to let this keep us from our already planned trip? 

    We had our SUV at home so I could have gone back, unloaded the whole car, girls, everything, then got back on the road. We were only about 45 minutes on our way. There was another problem. My brother was meeting us and the hotel was in our name. I wondered if he’d be able to stay in the room. I was in a difficult spot, and I didn’t know what to do. 

    I was praying this whole time, looking for an answer.

    Finally I decided I couldn’t risk driving the van with my girls in the back all the way to California. I turned around for the final time to go home.  

    That’s when Beth texted me a new thought – what if I looked for a place that could just fix up that part so we could make the drive? I figured it was worth a shot. I looked up a repair shop nearby and drove to it. The place I ended up at didn’t look right but I was resigned to trying one place and then giving up. At this point it was still early enough that we could get to California in a reasonable time if we hurried.  

    I wasn’t sure where I’d ended up, but it wasn’t a normal auto-repair shop. I parked the girls in front and ran into the building. Once inside, I knew I wasn’t in the right place. It was a corporate office with a front desk. Why did my navigation bring me here? 

    I decided I was already this far so I might as well ask. I started to explain my situation to the girl at the front desk who looked panicked. Panicked girl went and got another lady.  

    The other lady showed up. This lady exuded a lot more confidence than panicked lady. I think it was panicked lady’s first week. 

    I started explaining, “This is a long shot, it doesn’t look like I’m in the right kind of place, but I’m trying to go on a trip to California, my girls are in the car, and we’re having an issue with the car. I was wondering if anyone could take a quick look and see if there might be an easy fix just so we can make the drive.” 

    To my surprise, the lady asked if she could come look at it. She walked out to the van with me and got down on the ground. She quickly assessed what the issue was. She was talking out loud and wondering if she could fix it with tape, or if she could screw it in, or if it could be ripped off altogether. She stood up. “Follow me.” 

    Okay… I jumped in the car and followed her slowly as she walked around the side of this corporate building. In the back of the building was a huge auto repair shop. This was the place cars went when they were totaled. It was a massive corporate building with a giant repair shop attached.

    I saw the lady walk up to a mechanic in his bay, in the middle of a dozen other mechanics in their bays. Why did she choose this man? He was in the middle of working on a car. After a quick conference with him, she walked over to me and told me he was going to look at the car and see what he could do. He pulled the car he was in the middle of working on out and guided me into the spot.  

    I pulled in, somewhat bewildered by the kindness being shown. He immediately got down and started evaluating the problem. He quickly determined what was needed.  

    The girls continued to sit in their car seats while I stood outside the car. I opened their doors so they could see me.  

    “What are we doing, Daddy?” Ivy asked. I told her we were seeing if this nice guy could help us get to California. 

    I started talking to the guy and learned he had 6 children of his own under the age of 16.  

    He stood up. He told me what I needed to get it fixed and be able to make our trip to California. I was confused. I asked if he knew of a repair shop that could help.  

    “Oh, I’ll do it. Just go buy the part and bring it back here and I’ll get it fixed up for you.” 

    I was still kind of taken aback by the help I was receiving. 

    I hastily reserved the part at a nearby shop and got in the car to go pick it up. When I got back to the repair shop with the required part, my new angel mechanic friend put the part on. While he was at it, he took care of two other items that needed addressing. All told he spent over an hour fixing things on the van.

    At one point during the fix, what seemed to be the mechanic’s supervisor came by to see how some other work was coming along. I got worried, was I going to get this selfless good Samaritan in trouble? My mechanic (whose name, if you haven’t noticed, I embarrassingly can’t remember) explained how he was working on something and gave the timeline for that other car to get done. The supervisor was completely understanding and told him to take his time. This place seemed to have a phenomenal work environment.  

    When he finished his work, I still had the nerves of considering the drive to California in a car I wasn’t sure I could trust. I asked him if everything was good and if he would feel comfortable driving his family in it now.

    He looked me dead in the eyes and said, “I wouldn’t send you away from here if I wasn’t confident those two girls would be safe.” 

    I was touched. As I re-read my writing of this story, and just remember that moment, of this man I didn’t know pausing his whole day to help me and then assuring me that my two daughters’ safety was the most important thing in the world to him, I’m just in awe of the kindness shown. 

    When Beth suggested seeing if the car could be fixed real quick, I said a prayer. I asked my Heavenly Father for help. I asked Him, if it was possible for us to still make our trip to California, to help me find a place that could fix the car. 

    After I picked up the part I needed and was driving back to the location with my good Samaritan, I was trying to search for the place. I knew its location, I was able to retrace my steps back to it, but I was curious how I ended up there in the first place. I couldn’t remember what I’d searched to find it. 

    “Car repair shop.” 

    “Mechanic nearby.” 

    “Car maintenance.” 

    “Auto shop by me.” 

    “Auto repair garage.” 

    “Car parts.” 

    On and on I tried. I couldn’t remember what I searched for, but surely it was one of those options. Nothing brought me back to that corporate garage. How did I get there in the first place? I still don’t know. 

    I’ve since (these two years later) spent considerable time searching Google Maps and various keywords to try to find this place. I don’t have a phenomenal sense of direction and honestly have very little clue of the rough area I was in. I’ve scoured Google Maps for mechanic, demolition, and salvage shops in the area I thought I was in. It’s like the place disappeared, an angelic phantom of my imagination that did real, concrete work on our van. The only proof I have that the place existed are the still present fixes on our van.

    I asked the mechanic if I could pay him. I knew what his answer would be. 

    “Knowing those girls are going to have a great trip with their dad, that’s reward enough.” 

    I told him and the woman that I prayed for help and believe I was led there. In an increasingly non-spiritual world, it was nice when they agreed and were happy to be the answers to my prayer. 

    What were the odds of arriving at that place, and meeting a woman willing to go outside and get on the ground to look at the fender of a van, and then be led to a man, and that man be willing to drop what he was doing in his busy day to fix that van – all for no payment, reward, or recognition in return? They were a real answer to prayer, real angels. 

    I’m grateful for kindness and good people. I did nothing to deserve this kindness. It is people like those individuals that make this world a better place. They exemplify why we’re here and I thank them for their example to me of selfless service.  

    Now I can’t believe it’s been almost two years since this experience. I want to send cookies, or this thank you, or anything. But I can’t find them. While I desperately want to thank those two people, maybe this just makes it more of a miracle. I ended up there miraculously as an answer to prayer, and it’s as if the place disappeared after.

    Those two people will never see this but thank you. That became a memorable trip for me and my girls. More importantly, I was reminded that there are still exceptionally good, amazing people out there. 

  • The Hearts of the Fathers

    The Hearts of the Fathers

    I always thought about the mission of Elijah (turn the hearts of the fathers to the children and children to the fathers) from my perspective, as one of the “children.” I hadn’t thought about it from the other perspective.

    What happened when Christ preached to those who had died? He talked of His gospel and returning to heaven which was predicated on their baptism. This likely caused a stir amongst the dead. You can see the shudder through the countless number, “Baptism? But how can we be baptized without bodies?” Then Christ explained temple work, vicarious baptisms for the dead, and that they could be saved by their progenitors, their families. Imagine the excitement this caused.

    Those who Christ preached to had been dead for hundreds, some for thousands of years. When was the last time they’d thought about mortality? Did they think about mortality? Had they moved on? Like someone who has a vacation in Mexico but returns to their home, had they settled back into “life” amongst the dead and slowly stopped thinking about mortality? 

    If they had settled back into death, this news from Jesus Christ surely made them re-focus their attention on the living. 

    What then transpired? Did they begin ministering to their living loved ones? Were they sent out to influence the living? Were they ushered out to beg spiritually for help to be saved? 

    I’d always thought about how our hearts here on earth were turned to our dead loved ones when Elijah came and instituted the keys of the sealing power. 

    I hadn’t thought about how the hearts of the dead turned back to us and what that looked like. 

    Love. 

    Love and sacrifice and covenants bind us. 

    We, without them, cannot be made perfect. They, without us, cannot be made perfect. 

    Our ancestors laid the entire foundation for all that we have. Whether we want to give them credit, blame them, or forget them, we can’t deny that we are where we are and we are who we are because of them. 

    It’s amazing to see the modern-day genealogical work being done in the world and particularly amongst the saints. 

    We are creating a bonding link, a welded connection back to Adam. I don’t know exactly how, but this keeps the world from being smitten with a curse. 

    I believe it has to do with love. It has to do with connection. It has everything to do with why we’re here and what we’re meant to learn. 

  • Story of Compassion

    Story of Compassion

    *This is from a true story I read 4 years ago that I can’t find the source for now.

    There is a story of a person named Om whose mother was killed when he was a young child. After his mother was killed, Om was shipped off to another country. There he was held and kept by the very people who killed his mother.

    Om lived in captivity like this for twenty years, mistreated, and kept by those who murdered his mother. At the age of twenty-four he was shipped back to his home and allowed to be free. Twenty years he was with the people who killed his mom and held him against his will.

    One of those captors tried to befriend Om. This person’s name was Marc. Marc wasn’t directly responsible for Om’s suffering. Marc wasn’t the one who killed Om’s mother. But Marc was still one of them. Marc was the enemy.

    The people directly responsible for the murder of Om’s mother told Marc to be careful around Om. Om hated them all and would kill Marc the first chance he got. 

    Over time Marc started to befriend Om and Om did not attempt to kill Marc.

    While in captivity, Om developed a close relationship with a young child. This friendship was one of the few joys Om had in his difficult life.

    One day Marc slipped and startled the young child that Om was so fond of.

    Three female chimpanzees charged at Marc over his mishap and started to bite and attack him.

    As Marc was being attacked, he saw Om charge toward them. Om was furious. Surely Marc was going to pay for startling Om’s precious young one. Om’s time of revenge had finally come. He was going to kill Marc.

    To Marc’s surprise, Om fought off the three female chimpanzees and kept them at bay while Marc crawled to safety. Marc made it to a hospital and barely survived.

    Here was Om, whose mother had been taken from him and his life destroyed by the people Marc represented. Om could easily view Marc as the ultimate evil. And yet, over time, they had become, if not friends, at least friendly.

    Om stands for Old Man.

    You’ve probably figured out by now that Om is a chimpanzee.

    What can we learn from Om?

    We humans consider ourselves so smart, so intelligent, far removed from the beastly chimpanzee. Here is a creature, an animal, a beast, who could show so much forgiveness that he would save a man who represented the destruction of his life.

    We humans might immediately point to the lack of intelligence in Om as the reason behind his forgiveness. “If he really understood the situation, as we humans do, he wouldn’t be so quick to forgive.”

    What if the opposite is true? What if it is a sign of Om’s intelligence that he was able to forgive?

    Om showed compassion and forgiveness.

    While we are human and chimpanzees are beast, we can learn something from Om.

    The next time you find it difficult to love, or forgive, or understand, remember Om, a chimpanzee capable of great compassion.