Grace in the Serendipity

Perhaps it's because we had not merely low expectations, but actually none at all.

The speaker scheduled for the day -- a very high profile, oft-published author -- lives in Washington, D.C. and, as everyone had been seeing on the news in recent days, Washington D.C. was buried under something like 5 feet of snow. Travel was impaired. The speaker would not be appearing. The organizers were suddenly faced with a problem: an event full of registrants, at least many of whom had attended precisely to hear this absent speaker, and the better part of a day's schedule empty and needing to be filled. Hardly an enviable moment.

Out of curiosity I showed up. Looking around the largely empty room I concluded that such curiosity was in conspicuously short supply. Most had slept in. The sparse group was called to order, introductions were made, appreciations were voiced for the substitute's willingness to step into the snowy void, and she began.

Those of us who actually attended had made a fairly inexpensive bet. The presentation was divided into two parts by a social hour of refreshments. If the first half of the presentation was a dud, the exits were clearly marked. My guess is that everyone had scoped out the nearest doors, and fully expected to use them sooner rather than later. As I indicated before, we didn't merely have low expectations, we had no expectations at all.

Perhaps, those are precisely the moments when the best things can occur. There are no barriers, no pre-determined -- albeit unspoken -- hurdles to leap. There is simply the vacant ground, clear of obstruction, on which something beautiful can be built.

And for the next two hours or so, that's precisely what happened. It was wonderful. It was engaging, compelling, entertaining, and enlightening. In fact, I will buy the recording -- something I don't usually do -- in part because I want to hear the insights again, and in part because I want to share them with others.

I don't know why I have to keep learning this lessen over and over again: that God and holy grace routinely appear in the most inconspicuous, least expected places -- stables, mangers, children, often cranky church members, and yes, last-minute substitutions.

Sometime I hope to finally comprehend -- finally get it -- that faithfulness typically has less to do with "right belief" than it does "right expectations."

What are we watching for, in the full expectation of seeing? Perhaps the answer, at least for those have any joy at all, is the very radiance of heaven in life's most serendipitous moments.