A HEAVENLY WINK
On one occasion, the rationalistic Sadducees, who denied the resurrection as well as any sense of continued personal existence after death, posed to Jesus a trick question concerning the afterlife (Matthew 22:23-33). Though their thorny question concerned marriage in heaven, it revealed their ignorance of the Old Testament teaching regarding life after the grave. Jesus’ response cuts to the chase, pointing their (and our) attention to truth that brings comfort in the face of death: “But about the resurrection of the dead—have you not read what God said to you, ‘I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’? He is not the God of the dead but of the living” (vv. 32-33).
I recently experienced what I consider to be a “heavenly wink,” reminding me that God is indeed the God of the living, not the dead. During a visit to family in Tennessee, I was sharing with two of my grandchildren, Jonathan and Rachel, some of my experiences as a child of their age. Upon mentioning that I had attended a school called Brainerd (Chattanooga, Tennessee), Jonathan’s eyes lit up with excitement: “Grandad, several weeks ago I found a lost ring that apparently belonged to somebody from a school with that name!”
Jonathan excitedly explained that he and his friends sometimes looked for crawfish in a nearby creek. One day, having displaced a rock with his handcrafted pole, he curiously spotted something shiny. Lifting it up by the end of his stick, he surprisingly discovered it was a well preserved girl’s graduation ring. The inscription read: Brainerd High School, 1963.
The intrigue was captivating. “Jonathan, this is absolutely amazing,” I replied. “My oldest sister, Jeanie Stevens, graduated from Brainerd High School in 1963. What a coincidence!”
The intense surprise in his eyes told me there was yet more to the story. After informing me that he had done his research and had discovered that at that time there were no other schools in the country with the same name, he added: “Grandad, get this . . . there are three letters inscribed on the inside of the ring, J.H.S. Could it be that . . .?”
By this time, my jaw had dropped and chills of incredulity swept through my body. My sister’s maiden name is . . . Jeanie Harrison Stevens.
How did my sister’s ring travel 120 miles from Chattanooga, Tennessee to Mount Juliet (near Nashville, Tennessee) and end up 58 years later under a rock in a creek in my grandson’s neighborhood? I may never know. And what are the chances that my grandson would discover it as he hunted crawfish? Or that I would just happen to mention the word “Brainerd,” evoking the connection with this most amazing scenario?
Coincidence? Divine providence? Loving reminder?
I favor the latter two. You see, seven years prior to this discovery Jeanie weighed anchor and made her exodus from this world of pain and suffering toward her heavenly home after a long battle with leukemia. While her body “sleeps” in the ground— awaiting the day of resurrection—her spirit lives in Christ’s presence. Her ring, once lost now found, is a touching reminder that God cares—really cares—for each one of us with an eternal love. He’s concerned about every detail of life on planet earth, like hungry crowds (John 6) and falling sparrows (Matthew 6). If He can provide the needed temple tax in a fish’s mouth (Matthew 17:24-27), he can lovingly lead a twelve-year-old boy to discover a long lost ring under a rock in order to say, “I am the God of the living, not the dead.”
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