Installment seventeen, in a 31 day series, Forgotten or Chosen?
[If you’ve missed previous days, click here]
He Was My Father
I sent a message to Courtney and as I typed “yes, he was my father” I knew he was her father, too.
Our relative, Eric, a continent and ocean away in Norway, had found my search on Ancestry.com in 2011 and asked Courtney,
“What about Nancy?”
I didn’t have an account on Ancestry.com, yet my free, limited search in 2011 left a faint footprint.
Eric was able to see an e-mail address I no longer used. After I made that search, my last name changed.
It had been decades since Tony and I had used our birth name.
Our father’s family searched for us. The odds of them finding us were slim.
It was more improbable than probable.
But not for the creator of the universe, the God who took a formless and empty earth and said “let there be light” and there was light (Genesis 1:2,3 NLT). Not for the God who watched me in utter seclusion and formed the inner parts of my body in the dark of my mother’s womb (Psalm 139:13, 15 NLT).
A divine circumstance.
Consider this verse in Isaiah:
“I will answer them before they even call to me. While they are still talking about their needs, I will go ahead and answer their prayers!” Isaiah 65:24
God knows me specifically, he knew just what I needed before I did.
They found us.