December 26, 2010 - Christmas miracle!

Background - I’m going out of order because this one totally blew me away!! I’m still saying “you’ve got to be kidding me! (YGTBKM). Also, to say it’s a Christmas miracle is a bit of an over-statement, but I needed to get your attention (shameless, I know). Let’s just say it was a small gift from God, the universe and the “powers that be”!!

Two weeks ago, I bought my oldest sister a beautiful sparkly cream scarf from Macy’s for Christmas, and added to the purchase the same scarf in red and black for myself! It didn’t take 24 hours for me to start feeling guilty about the “one gift for others, two gifts for me” pattern I had developed and I promptly returned the black scarf to Macy’s. I was fighting with myself the entire way because I wanted that scarf so badly, but in the end my overburdened conscience won out and the scarf went back.

S.C.O.U.T. - Christmas day my younger sister began passing her gifts around and my oldest sister opened hers first. What she found in the package was the very same sparkly red scarf I had bought for myself and the identical style to the sparkly cream one I just gave her! How uncanny for us to have bought the exact same scarves. I mean really, think about all the scarves out there and the odds of us picking the exact same ones! Tingle, tingle. I started getting that funny feeling that this was turning into a S.C.O.U.T.
My other sister opened her gift to find that she had received the same sparkly red scarf (these are really cute scarves). I then realized that my little sister had gotten us all the same thing and that the gift I was holding most likely contained this same red scarf. I would now have two of the same red scarf (punishment no doubt for settling on the "one gift for others, one gift for myself" pattern).

I began telling my little sister the story as I tore open the paper. I popped open the box and there was the black scarf that I had returned two weeks ago and wanted so badly. I was stunned! I stammered as the strangeness of this timing settled in on me and asked her why she had gotten me the black instead of the red and she told me, and I quote,

“I don’t know why I got you the black one instead of the red one. I was going to get you the red and at the last second I just had the thought that you might like the black one better. It was kinda weird!”

Wow! I want to thank God, the universe and the “powers that be” for both the scarf (!) and this terrific Strange Case of Uncanny Timing to post on my blog!  My goofy dog Scout is still recovering from one too many celebration cookies, but told me to tell you Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all!

Reader Contribution - "Prolate Spheroid" fantasy fulfilled!

November 6, 2010, Zack told me  - that during his high school football game he was getting frustrated because he was never able to catch the football that the boosters threw into the stands to keep the fans entertained during lulls in the game. He’d wanted to catch that thing for some time now and even expressed his frustration to the friend sitting next to him “I never get the ball. I want to catch that thing so bad, but it never comes to me. If it just come a little closer I know I could get it.”


S.C.O.U.T.  - Zack had barely finished his rant about missing out on the awesome experience of catching the ball, when moments later the football came drilling into the stands once again. This time the spinning oval projectile knew exactly where it was headed and made a bee line straight for Zack’s waiting arms! It was as if the ball, or someone, or something had heard his request and proceeded to fulfill his football catching fantasy.

Zack couldn’t have been more thrilled to be clutching the cold, bumpy red leather trophy until the students around him realized that the prize was within their reach as well. All they had to do was to dive on the owner, crush him to the ground, pound him in the back of the head and pry the ball from his unsuspecting grip, which is exactly what they did.

Zack lost the ball and a bit of his pride, but no one could take the thrill of the catch from him. He went home with a smile on his face, and a few bumps and bruises to help him remember the glory. He’s satisfied now, fantasy fulfilled, and has made it clear to “the powers that be” that once is enough, no more football glory required. Could it be that he’s learned the very important lesson of “be careful what you wish for!” The lumps on his noggin say “yes“!

P.S. “Prolate Spheroid” is the scientific name for any object that’s shaped like a football. See, you learn something new everyday!

May 8, 2010 - Social angst resolved, and a great parking space to boot!

Background - I’m socially awkward. Actually that’s being kind, I’m a social moron and I’m so bad at remembering peoples names that I’ve developed an entire coping system to never have to say a name unless I know the person super well. “Hey buddy“, “Hello darlin”, or “Hey there“ and “How are YOU?” (with the emphasis on you) are devised to sound like I know your name so well I don’t even have to use it. I know its pathetic, but I’ve learned to accept this character flaw and even live with it.
Live with it that is, until I’m faced with yet another social test. I agreed to meet a group of woman that I don’t know very well for happy hour at a local restaurant and had worked myself into a frenzy on the way to the gathering. I’d convinced myself that, not only would I not remember their names, but I wouldn’t even recognize their faces in the restaurant. I would walk right past their table as they stared at me wondering “what the hell is she doing?” and then the obvious follow-up question, “what the hell is wrong with her?”. My secret would be out. “She’s a social moron“ they would say. I almost considered turning the car around with the thought of it, but stopped myself mid-panic. “Hold it together Guen. Don’t be ridiculous. Its going to be fine. Your going to go into that restaurant, find these nice ladies and have a laugh. Seriously, would you grow up please” I chastised myself.

S.C.O.U.T. - I had just finished calming myself and picturing the entire evening going smooth as silk when my cell phone rang. I pulled into a parking lot to take the call. “Hey Guen, its Lauren, we’re at the third table on the left after you pass the hostess stand. Just wanted you to know which table we’re at when you get here”. My first thought was “you’ve got to be kidding me! That‘s just what I needed to know in order to avoid my usual embarrassing calamity!” and my second thought was “congratulations! At least you had HER name right”.

What a strange case of uncanny timing. Sweet! Social angst resolved I thought, while taking a moment to note the awesome timing of that phone call…ask and ye shall receive!

I pulled into the restaurant behind four other cars only to find every single space in the lot filled. Peeling off early from the pack, I figured that I had no choice but to park in the over-flow lot and walk. As I began down the main aisle, I decided there was nothing to lose by playing a few rounds of “the parking space game“. Creeping down the aisle I repeated to my empty car “ I will find a good space. I will find a good space. I will find a good space and not have to walk from the dark, spooky over flow lot”.
I reached the very end of the aisle and my eyes settled on the only open spot in the sea of parked cars. It was the first space in the aisle, and one of the closest spaces to the front door…must be a handicapped spot. I squinted to find the wheelchair sign, but quickly realized there wasn’t one. Unbelievable!! You’ve got to be kidding me!! The other four cars went trundling past me headed for the over-flow parking as I sat laughing my ass off. What a truly uncanny case of timing this night was turning into!! Where’s that goofy dog of mine?!!

April 26, 2010 - The all-powerful and all-seeing... UJBR(?)!!!

Background - I was substituting for a fifth grade class at Potowmack Elementary school and got talking to one of the fifth grade boys. He was reading a rather large, mature looking book and I was curious as to what the story was. So I drifted by him to try and catch a peek at the title. I didn’t recognize it but there was no doubt that this was an adult book. “That’s a pretty high level book you’ve got there” I said with a smile “What’cha readin?”. He was a really cute kid named Scott and he tells me that he likes to read his dad’s books and that Michael Crichton is one of his favorites. He also offers that his mom won’t let him read everything because she’s worried about the subject matter, and then he rolls his eyes at me to indicate that his mom is way over protective. I shook my head in mock agreement. Such a cute kid.

I asked him if he had read Crichton’s book called “Swarm” (the only title I could come up with at the moment).  He said “no, my mom wouldn’t let me.” Again with the eye rolling. “How about “Jurassic Park? Didn’t Michael Crichton write Jurassic Park?” He said he hadn’t read that one either and didn’t know if Michael Crichton had written it or not, clearly getting annoyed with my badgering.  Dropping his head, he went back to his reading and I resumed my classroom drifing, laughing at myself because I couldn’t remember who wrote Jurassic Park. Now it was bugging me. I was almost sure it was Michael Crichton.

Class ended and I gathered up the little darlings and walked them down to the music room and then, after music, they would head off to P.E. That meant that I had an entire hour to eat my lunch and read my Uncle John’s Bathroom reader, “Uncle John Plunges into the Universe” (Uncle John works real hard on these titles).

S.C.O.U.T.- I pick up where I left off a few days before, on the bottom of page 100, and the very first thing my eyes settle on is...

“Is it true that scientists dug up an oversized “velociraptor” after Steven Spielberg created one for Jurassic Park?

I get that tingle down my spine and continue reading,

“Actually a large raptor was discovered two years before the release of Jurassic Park, but supposedly the all-powerful and all-seeing Spielberg didn’t know it. He just took the raptors that Michael Crichton had used in the book of the same name….

You could have blown me over with a feather. I was glad I had the classroom to myself because I was so stunned I must have looked like I‘d seen a ghost. It felt like I had asked a question and the answer had been express mailed to me. What a strange case of uncanny timing. Was it a premonition? Was it just a coincidence? Did I “attract” the answer to my question, or was it a tug on the shirt from “the powers that be” to remind me that I’m not alone (i.e. just part of a cosmic conversation)?

I’m still working on the answer to this one, but now if I could just get an answer to one of my most pressing questions. It has to do with the winning lottery numbers for this coming Friday…hehehe! Come on Uncle John, help me out here!!

What's a scout? Funny, it turned out to be a S.C.O.U.T.!! Clever universe!

To begin, the word scout used as a verb means "to find by seeking, searching or looking".  Hmm?  How interesting that this word would end up being just the acronym I was looking for while searching for meaning in these "Strange Cases Of Uncanny Timing"!  Seek and ye shall find.

The phrase "Strange Case Of Uncanny Timing" is a phrase I strung together to describe what would seem like a mere coincidence but allows for the possibility that there is more meaning to it.  While this phrase describes only the event and resists the temptation to interpret its meaning, its a bit long.  I decided that a simple acronym would help to shorten it and therefore make it more useful.  I sat down with my scrap paper to play around with the first letters and see what I could come up with.

I'm horrible at word puzzles so it was no surprise that I couldn't see my dogs name in the first letters of this phrase until I sat down and pulled each one out and looked at them as a word.  When my dogs name appeared on the first try I was stunned.  I sat back and laughed at the fact that, just by coincidence, my 7 year old goofy Portuguese Water dogs name was the acronym I had begun trying to construct.  Scout was strangely enough a S.C.O.U.T.! 

This combined with the definition of the word gave me the tingly feeling that I am being walked down a garden path.  I am seeking, searching and looking for meaning in these uncanny connections and, while this excersize seems to raise more questions than it answers, I have no choice but to follow this path.  Its an interesting and awe inspiring path so I don't mind, but the question that seems to grow with each turn in the road is "where does this path lead?".   The only way to find out is forward!

March 15, 2010 - Predawn Vertical Insertion

Background - First of all, get your mind out of the gutter. This has nothing to do with that! Matt, my youngest son, and I have a before bedtime conversation about an extended family member who was a former military special forces guy. Matt and my husband had come back from a small family reunion weekend in Disney where Matt had met this guy. He had a lot of questions about this guys service, most of which I couldn’t answer. All I could tell him was that I knew he was involved in the Grenada conflict under President Reagan, which triggered a whole host of new questions I couldn’t answer. He wanted to know if Grenada had been a war? and what the conflict had been about? I told him that I didn’t think that it was called a “war”. The term “war” was very specific and required Congress to actually declare war before it could officially be termed that. Finally, I told him that I wasn’t sure about any of this and that we would have to Google it tomorrow! Right now its time to read a little and then get to sleep. I kissed him goodnight and headed for my own book and bed.

S.C.O.U.T.- Moments later, Matt comes rushing into my bedroom with his “Uncle John’s Bathroom Reader, 10^th anniversary edition“, pg. 303, opened to the section he had begun reading. If your familiar with these books you know that each page has a bottom crawling, random little tid-bit that will, more often than not, get you to say “wow!”. Matt definitely said “wow!” that night because the bottom crawler stated that

“Double speak: The U.S. government called the invasion of Grenada a “predawn vertical insertion”.

This is the only place in the 500 page book that Grenada is mentioned and Matt had opened right to it. What uncanny timing that it should appear just then and there, answering at least one of his questions (and like I said, it had nothing to do with that other thing you were thinking. Now don‘t you feel silly?!)!

Was it a coincidence? Did Matt “attract” the word Grenada to himself? Had God, the universe and the “powers that be” sent an answer to one of his questions? Or perhaps they were just getting in on the conversation, i.e. they‘re always listening and responding to our lives? Did Matthew become “entangled” with the word Grenada and therefore it had no choice but to appear? Is Matt’s brain a quantum computer that manifested the word because he was thinking about it, i.e. you create your own reality? I know what I think, but telling you would add nothing to this discussion. We each have to decide on our own what we think these strange cases of uncanny timing mean!

April 14, 2010 - What's all the Hubble-bub about?

Background - I was having an interesting conversation with a dad from my son’s soccer team at our end-of-season party and found out that he and his co-worker were the two guys to put together the repair kit for the Hubble Space Telescope mirror problem a number of years back. “What a coincidence!” I said, my father-in-law was the engineer for NASA who was responsible for discovering that the battery in the telescope was so seriously flawed that it wouldn’t take long after launching it into space for the battery to die and turn the entire thing into orbiting space junk, and an enormous failure for NASA. The PR nightmare alone would have killed funding for numerous future projects.

I told him that my father-in-law had reconfigured the entire power system to extend the battery life far beyond what had originally been projected and hence Hubble went on to be one of NASA’s biggest successes. Although I was preaching to the choir because he already knew most of what I was telling him. We both agreed that most people had no idea what had gone into the Hubble Space Telescope because you rarely hear anything about it, let alone how the battery system exceeded all expectations. Oh well, such is the way of our world. Time to cut the cake!

S.C.O.U.T.  - The following night we were watching Jeopardy. One of the categories was “The Hubble Space Telescope”. We had a little laugh about that because of the conversation from the night before. How strange that the Hubble would appear so soon after we’d spent so much time talking about it. We got a shiver though when the answer to the final question in the category was…

“What was the battery that lasted 13 years longer than they expected it to?”!

I looked at my husband, he looked back at me, and then we both looked at our dog Scout. I stand corrected. The contestant got the answer right, so clearly someone has been paying attention to the Hubble Space Telescope… and clearly God and the universe have been paying attention to my conversations!

April 12, 2010 - The healing power of a fruit smoothie

Background- I was volunteering at the front door of our high school. A job that I loved because it was easy, helped out the school and, as a bonus, I got to catch glimpses of my freshman son as he darted past me to class. This particular morning was slow so I had plenty of time to day dream. I was thinking about my mom and how it was now almost five years since she passed away. Before I knew it I found myself wading through the pain and torment of the last weeks of her life and started to get really bummed out. While I try not to do that anymore because it’s a useless exercise in self torment and doesn’t change a thing, on occasion I still drift back to those dark days and wonder if there is anything I could have done differently. Anything I could have done to save her or, at the very least, anything I could have done to ease her suffering and her fears.

I was happily saved from my aching conscience by a young woman who came limping into the lobby with an orthopedic boot on one foot. She was carrying a Tropical Smoothie cup and I assumed she had treated herself to a foot healing dose of fruit and one of the many other additives that Tropical Smoothie offers to boost your immune system, heal your soul and put a smile on your face. I made a comment to her along those lines and she proceeded to tell me that she was bringing it in for her Dad. He wasn’t feeling well and she said "I thought it might perk him up". By now she had an odd look on her face because I was just sitting there stunned with my mouth hanging open.

S.C.O.U.T
 I had brought my Mom a Tropical Smoothie nearly every single day she was in the critical care unit at Reston hospital. I would help her drink it because she was too weak to hold it to her own mouth. When she was done I would smile, kiss her forehead and tell her “There, now that will perk you up!”

I fought hard to push back the tears for fear I would spook her and send this medicine toting angel running from the building. I couldn’t bear the thought of robbing this ailing man of the healing power of his daughters love, or the antioxidants in a blue lagoon blueberry smoothie. I signed her in and told her I hoped her Dad felt better. Once she had limped far enough down the hall, I laid my head on the table and let a few of those tears slip down my cheek. Maybe, just maybe, I had done all I could for my Mom and she wanted me to know that it was the little things anyway. Little things like showing up with her favorite smoothie and helping her drink it that showed how much I loved her, and that the little things were enough… or maybe it was just a coincidence. Either way, I felt a lot better, kind of like when I sit and pet my sweet, goofy dog S.C.O.U.T. and have a good cry into his soft, furry neck.   Uncanny.

Reader contribution - Hey, can you hear me? I'm talking to you!

Angela wrote - Hey Guen - I love your blog! I have one… First a little background - because of past medical issues I had always been concerned about being able to have children. That was obviously NOT an issue (Angela currently has 4 boys), however, at this time I thought (and worried) about it a lot. It was July 23, 1995 and we were on vacation with Jim’s family. They are devout Catholics so we all went to church in VA beach and ended up in the balcony at the back of the church. It was really crowded and loud so I couldn’t hear the sermon at all (and honestly my mind was wandering, thinking that I wanted to be sitting on the beach instead! Haha). Suddenly, in a BOOMING voice I heard “BY THIS TIME NEXT YEAR, YOU WILL HAVE A SON” - it was the story of Sarah and Abraham. I got chills and wondered why the priest spoke SO loudly for that one sentence, but no one around me appeared to be phased. It was weird to me at the time that no one else seemed to take notice of this one shouted sentence so I shrugged it off and didn’t think much else about it.

Several weeks later I found out I was pregnant and on April 24, 1996 - almost exactly 9 months later - I had a son! He was born at 12:08 am… less than 10 minutes from being born on the 23^rd!

Thanks Angela -  I have become a firm believer that if there is a message for you, it will find its way to you whether your paying attention or not!! I’ve had similar thing happen to me.

As a side note, the day after you were sitting in the church and heard the BOOMING message, I was in the hospital having my twin boys, July 24, 1995! The 24^th must be a good date for having sons!.

April 6, 2010 - Ring, ring... answer your phone. Scout is calling!

Background  - I was substituting in our middle school (a school of approximately 1200 students) for a teacher that I had never subbed for before. I was rushing to read the plans for the day and had, in the process, forgotten to turn off my cell phone. What a rookie mistake! Any substitute worth her salt knows what chaos a ringing phone can cause in a middle school classroom!! It was the first time in over a year I had forgotten to turn the thing off before I started class.
Midway through class, I finally had all the little stinkers on task and was feeling pretty good about the job when I hear my phone jingling in my purse. Cringing, I tried to ignore the first few rings, but it wasn’t long before every student in class was now focusing intently on the ringing phone instead of their work. Finally one of the boys looked at me and stated the obvious “your phone’s ringing!” I smiled at how cute he was and told him I was aware of that, then got everyone back on task and finished out the class.
As soon as the bell rang and I was able to clear the classroom I went to check and see who had called me. It had been my sister-in-law calling to tell me that one of our mutual friends was involved in a bit of a minor scandal and wanted to know if I knew about it. I hadn’t heard the news, but at that point I was too shocked to care about the scandal anyway. After hearing her say the name of our friends I just stood there trying to process the weirdness of this latest tug on the shirt from God, the universe or the “powers that be” until my next class filing noisily into the room jolted me out of my daze.
S.C.O.U.T. - I was reeling because not only was this scandalous couples son in my last block (I had never had him in my class before), he had been the little boy who had told me my phone was ringing!  He obviously had no way of knowing that the call he was informing me of was to gossip about his parents. Come on!!!! You’ve got to be kidding me. I half expected my goofy dog S.C.O.U.T to come plodding around the corner and into the classroom it was so bizarre.
Was somone trying to tell me that its not nice to gossip by reminding me that the kids involved are innocent bystanders?  If so, I heard them loud and clear.

April 5, 2010 - Your One Of A Kind Elton

Background - On Saturday, April 3, I was driving alone in the car and the Elton John song “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” came on. For the first time, in all the times of hearing that song, I really listened to the words. When Elton sang

                “Maybe you’ll get a replacement”
              “there’s plenty like me to be found"

I had to laugh and said out loud to the empty seats “I doubt that Elton. There’s hardly plenty like you to be found. Your definitely one of a kind!”. Realizing that I was once again talking to myself, I looked at the cars next to me to make sure no one had seen me jabbering away to an empty seat and, satisfied that I had avoided at least one embarrassing moment today, quietly enjoyed the end of the song.

S.C.O.U.T. - On Monday I attended my regular spinning class with our fun, bubbly instructor Kim. Class got underway and about three songs into the class I was amused to hear her play for the first time ever (I’ve taken her class for three years now), “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road”. It struck me as odd that I was hearing this oldie but goodie twice in two days and that, not only had I heard this blast from the past just the other day, but really paid attention to the lyrics and what they might mean. Was this a S.C.O.U.T.? At that moment I realized that this whole idea of strange timing was silly. I was reaching and most likely turning all of these events into something they weren’t. This was just a coincidence and it was ridiculous to read more into it. I dismissed it, vowed to keep my over-active imagination in check and focused on working up a sweat.
      
                 "Maybe you'll get a replacement"
               "There's plenty like me to be found"

Just then, Kim lifted her head and said to the class...
                                                   
             "Plenty like you Elton?  I doubt that"
                "Your definately one of a kind!"

Now that's a S.C.O.U.T.!!!  Was is it an echo of my thoughts?  Or was God, the universe, or the "powers that be" playing a little joke on me while trying to tell me there's way more to this existence than meets the eye?  One things for sure... whoever, or whatever is responsible for all this has a wicked sense of humor!

April 4, 2010 Easter Sunday - A sad day for bunnies :(

Background - My brother came for dinner and a visit today. While we were hanging around in the kitchen cooking and talking he begins to tell me the story of how he ran over a bunny with his car and how sick it made him feel. He had tried to swerve the car, but didn’t have time and ended up killing the poor little thing. He was clearly disturbed by the event and so I assumed that it had happened on the way to my house that evening. When I asked him where and when it had happened, he told me he had run it over weeks ago, and he didn’t even know why he was even thinking about it today or why he had brought it up at all. There was no way he could know how stunned I was at that moment as he shook his head and laughed about how silly it was to be so broken up over killing one little rabbit, and that he should just let it go already!

S.C.O.U.T. -  He couldn’t know how stunned I was because he had no idea that I was writing a book, let alone what I was writing. I had spent hours the day before trying to construct the sad story of how my sweet, nurturing mother had run over my beloved bunny when I was 15 years old. It had been tied up in our carport and was hopping around the car… I know, bad idea. I had run into the house for just a moment and didn’t know she was getting ready to run errands. She came out, got in the car and backed out without a second thought... ouch, and yuck ): When she got home and found me sobbing over the squished bunny, she was absolutely beside herself and horrified at what she’d done. It was a good many years before she was able to forgive herself and accept that it was just an accident.

 I’m sure its just a coincidence that my brother chose today to tell me about the one and only poor little bunny he has ever run over the day after I had spent hours constructing the story of the one and only poor little bunny that my mother had ever run over. I felt very connected to my brother at that moment. We were both mourning. He, his bunny, me, my bunny and both the loss of our mother, but it was just a coincidence, right? Have you ever run over a bunny? I haven’t. Oh, and in case your wondering, my bunnies name wasn’t scout…or was it?!

Reader contribution - Never too old to reach out and say I love you!

Michelle wrote  - O.K., here’s a weird thing that happened to me today. I was driving back from the Leesburg Wegmans, not so near my house, and in front of me was a car with a Virginia license plate that said “Kane PA”, which is a very small, rural town in Pennsylvania where Charlie’s great aunt lived her whole life and died a few years back at the age of 105. I thought that was odd enough. I tried to catch up, but lost her at a light. Then 4-5 hrs later I had to go to Tysons, went to park in my usual out of the way spot, get out of the car and right next to us is the SAME “Kane PA” car I had seen earlier. Way too coincidental. I called Charlie’s mom to tell her how freaky it was and she told me she had just been going through, and boxing up, all of Aunt Irene’s things to put them in storage. O.K., now that does it. She had to be sending us a message!

Thanks Michelle  - That’s a chiller! The chances of each of those things happening by coincidence have to be statistically impossible! Irene was clearly very old and very wise. She knew exactly how to get your attention and get you to call Charlie’s mom while she moved through the heart wrenching task of boxing up her aunts things. I have no doubt your call eased the sadness of that chore. Aunt Irene… you sly old fox! Uncanny! -

March 2010 - A light house shows the way home

Background - My brother began dating a woman who was coming out of a turbulent marriage and as she worked towards mutual agreement on various details with her soon to be ex-husband, the lawyers set up the arbitration date and site to begin to finalize the divorce. In need of an ear to bend, she began telling my brother where and when the meeting would be held. My brother was amused to find out that the meeting would take place not only in the building that he had worked for a good many years, but on the very floor his office had been. Both feeling the eerie connection, she continued to tell him that she has a previous attachment to this building as well. While driving home in the dark from the job she had held at the time, she would watch for the bright sign on top of this very building because it signaled that her exit was coming up. She affectionately called the building her lighthouse.

S.C.O.U.T.- As they pieced together the timing of her regular hours for that job and compared them to my brothers hours during the same period of time, they came to the conclusion that there was no doubt that my brother was in the building working as she would drive by, look up to the building, and think of her lighthouse… years before they had ever even met.

Neither could deny the feeling that there was a message in this bizarre coincidence.  A message that would instead make it a strange case of uncanny timing and signal that a neon sign isn't the only thing in this life that will light your way home.

Reader Contribution - Hebrews 11:1 and a very special mug

Maureen wrote - As you know, weird things happen to me daily; :). However just recently I was having a discussion about faith with my sister-in-law, she’s a rocket scientist. She is exploring her faith but as a scientist needs proof. As we were driving through the English countryside a bible verse popped into my head… not one that I read frequently, but I must have read it at one point. It was Hebrews 11:1. “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen”, and that was the end of our conversation. The next week, I go to the opening of our new church and Pastor Mintor begins his sermon with that exact verse. I suppose someone was trying to tell me something.
Also, on a recent trip to the Jersey Shore my sister and I decided to spend the weekend in Ocean Grove, a cute little Victorian town where my mother-in-law spent her childhood summers. She loved it there and would always tell me to go down and spend time there. We stayed in a bed and breakfast on the ocean… very nice. The next morning my sister went out to grab us some coffee from the hotel kitchen and she comes back to the room with the exact same mug as my mother-in-law used every morning when she was alive. It’s a unique mug, not one you would see everywhere. The hotel said they had bought it in a thrift store. It was as if she was telling me she was happy I was there! I left two wine glasses in the mugs place and took it home with me.

Thanks Maureen - These stories gave me chills. I understand how your sister-in-law feels. That used to be me - although I’m certainly no rocket scientist! I needed proof for everything until I read a little bit about Quantum physics and learned that the best minds in the world can’t explain some of their own scientific findings. I understand that not having an explanation doesn’t mean that there isn’t one, but it makes me wonder if we're suppose to understand everything. I hope she has a few undeniable S.C.O.U.T.S. of her own, you know… one of the ones you just can’t shake off! Life is just so much more interesting when we can’t explain everything we see and have to take some of it on faith! The second story is self explanatory. What a great mother-in-law you had (have!).

March 30, 2010 - Call the CDC... this thing's contagious!

Background - How do you know that you have a really good spouse? You can tell them anything, including the fact that your on the fast train to crazy town and there aren’t any stops to get off before you arrive. How do you know you have a really, really good spouse? When you look over and they’re in the seat next to you! You want to ask them when they bought they’re ticket, but you can tell they’re a little uneasy about this trip, so you just accept it and appreciate the company.

S.C.O.U,T. - My husband tells me one evening after work that he had a S.C.O.U.T. that day. The fact that he used my acronym made me realize just how much he loves me, and just how brave he is! He had been thinking about a friend of ours, a guy named Justin who is the manager at our local Irish pub, and how he hadn’t spoken to him for a good many weeks. He was remembering that he had told Justin that he would donate an extra TV we have for the pubs use (in exchange for a few free Guinness’s of course!) and that he needed to take care of that. He filed it away in his mental T.T.D. circular file, never to be seen again, and moved on to the next order of business. He hadn’t even begun thinking about the next item when his phone rang. He looked to see who it was and… you guessed it, “Hey Justin! This is so weird, I was just thinking about you!” What uncanny timing!

Justin did indeed get his T.V. thanks to God, the universe and the “powers that be” for tapping him on the shoulder and giving him a nudge to call Mike right at that moment. Justin got his T.V., Mike got a few free Guinness,  and I got a terrific traveling companion (: Love ya hunny!

March 18, 2010 - Screw you Hannibal Lecter

Background - We had just recently watched the movie “The Silence of the Lambs” and I was having one of my daydream type “mental walk-abouts”. In this break from reality I was agent Starling from the movie and was at the mental asylum interviewing Dr. Hannibal Lecter through the famous glass enclosed cell (I know… I have issues, but I can’t tell you the S.C.O.U.T. if I don’t let you into the strangeness of some of my day to day musings, and don‘t tell me you‘ve never imagined yourself as a character from a movie. Just don‘t, because I don‘t believe you.).

Dr. Lecter had just finished telling me what a cheesy dressing rube I am simply by looking at me and sniffing my cheap drug store bought perfume. He was now trying intimidate me by staring me down with his creepy, black beady eyes. Unlike the real character, Clarice Starling, I let him have it and proceeded to tell him that he doesn’t know me and if that three inch thick glass wasn’t there that I would kick his ass (this scene must have tapped into my less than opulent childhood and I identified with being called out for not having the coolest of cloths!), and finished off by telling him “look buddy, you of all people should know that the cloths don‘t make the man, or the woman, you psycho. At least I don‘t eat people”. It was about now that I realized how far this little mental charade had gone and turned on the radio to try and hitch a ride back to reality, laughing at myself yet once again.

S.C.O.U.T. - The very first thing I hear is the George Michael song “Freedom 90” from the 1980’s (seriously, when is the last time you heard that song randomly on the radio?!), and the lyrics that come booming through my car radio are… “Sometimes the cloths do not make the man… freedom, freedom… ”. I started laughing out loud. Absolutely uncanny timing that those very words would show up within seconds of me thinking them!

Who am I to argue with George Michael.  The cloths don't make the man (or woman) it is!

What's it all about Alfie?

Pre-diary S.C.O.U.T., Fall 2005 -

Background - My Mom passed away in July of 2005 and I was struggling through that first fall without her. My mind, as minds tend to do, was spending a good chunk of time finding random questions about the past to test my memory. Questions that would have easily been answered 6 months ago with one phone call to my Mom. I tried to make it stop on more than one occasion but it just laughed at me and continued to frustrate me by bringing up one thing after another that I now couldn‘t remember. This particular question was simple… “what was the name of my grandmothers little white dog?” I had grown up chasing that little stinker around trying to get hold of him most of my childhood and could see him clear as a bell in my minds eye, but what the heck was his name?

This went on for a good week or so and had finally reached its climax with me rolling around on my bed sobbing because I would now never be able to remember the name of that little dog. My mom had abandoned me without refreshing my memory as to his name and now I would never know it again. This was just one of the things that 6 months ago meant absolutely nothing to me, but now seemed all important. What other things was I going to forget and never know again without my mom to fill in the blanks? There was no way I was going to make it through losing her and move on if this is how it’s going to be. Despair was threatening to suffocate me… if I could just remember that sweet little dogs name everything would be alright.

S.C.O.U.T. - The next day, I was sitting in a doctors office looking through an old magazine and came across an advertisement and review for a movie starring Jude Law. It was a re-make of the movie “Alfie” starring Michael Caine. There it was. My stomach flipped over and I fought back the tears. Alfie. His name was Alfie. The tears won out and began to flow as I read on and was stunned to find that the original movie was filmed in 1966. The year I was born. Thanks mom. I love you too. It’s still gonna be tough, but I’m starting to think I might make it… and yes, everyone in the waiting room was now staring at me. I could have cared less.