Last weekend we went to my mum’s place to help her tidy up before she moves to her new house.
She’s bought a new lounge so she offered us her old one, plus a few other pieces of furniture – enough to warrant hiring a truck/lorry to move the stuff back to our house.
Eventually it will go into the new rooms in our house extension.
Included was a big, heavy woodwork bench my Dad had made years ago from 12 x 4 inch Oregon.
I wanted that bench even if it was all we brought home.
We had to get a friend of the family to help lift it and the other furniture onto the truck and by midday Saturday we were ready to roll.
It’s a three hour drive back to our house from the coast where mum lives, so my boys and I cruised along merrily, chatting about whatever came to mind.
I had given some thought about getting the bench and lounges off once I got home: I would call some friends to see who was home and ask them to give me a half hour of labour in return for a cuppa.
I didn’t pray about it.
I prayed about other stuff on the way home, but not how to get the bench and furniture off the truck.
This added about twenty minutes to our travel time.
We continued on and arrived at our house only to find two friends in the driveway.
They’d been over to see if we were home and show us their new bikes.
Seeing that we were not at home, they had hung around our house for about twenty minutes (yep, the same time we spent at the shop in Mittagong) adjusting their bikes and relaxing before they headed home.
They helped us take the bench and furniture off the truck and put in the house and shed before we sat and had a relaxing cuppa together.
They had not intended it, but they were God’s provision for me that day.
They were there at exactly the right time, in fact they were just about to leave for home.
God even arranged it that they fiddled about with their bikes and rested, to make up for the unexpected stop we made during our drive home.
And I hadn’t even asked specifically for God’s help in unloading the truck.
These sorts of things happen to me all of the time, and after 30 years of it happening, I no longer call them coincidences.