Just Add Water

One evening last week, I was left to wonder at how many things we allow to pass by—how many things that we just don’t allow to happen that were supposed to happen.
I was in Walmart—where good things usually happen. I walked by a very buff, nice looking military guy shopping with his grandmother (I assume) at 9:00.
This combination in itself was enough to intrigue me, but then he glanced at her for approval before putting a box of Twinkies in the cart. Reluctantly, I left them in the chip aisle and moseyed down to the meat section. A few aisles over in the ice cream section I met back up with them but then we again parted ways once again.
When I was walking out of the store, they pulled out of the checkout line right in front of me, and we basically walked out together. Out of the entire parking lot of cars, we had parked in the same row-- one space down from one another. The guy unloaded his Twinkies into Granny’s car as I unloaded my bags in the back of my car. Then it started to rain. Serendipitously, we managed to push our carts over to the same corral, at the exact same time.
I passed by him as I walked back to my car, all the while wanting so badly to turn and ask him for his story. Maybe if I could go back to the moment I’d blurt out—“Who are you? Why are you out with an old lady so late? Wanna go get a coffee, wait out the storm, talk for a few hours about our lives, and then move on when the rain lets up?” In hindsight, everything is easy and clear. Except for the naggin question: why did that happen? Why do things like that ever happen?
If God does indeed write our stories, He allowed those details (like so many other times) to line up. I’m in no way insinuating any romantic interest or purpose with this guy; I just want to know why things like that happen. Is coincidence a real thing? Is God involved in coincidental details like that? Is everything done on purpose?
I wonder if things are incumbent upon me more often. Does God give us a starter kit for our destiny (like little details lining up) and then let us do what we can with it?
I hope not—I’ll probably stare at it for a lifetime before opening the package. Like one of those friendship bread starters that I let sit on the counter until it sours.