I don’t normally ask for “signs”, but there was one occasion when I did so.
I’ve made the claim ad infinitum that my father appeared in my room on the night he died. I still remember much of what we said, and in particular the terrifying scream at the end, just before he disappeared again (and I haven’t seen him since). As it turned out, his body wasn’t found for four days, and I still remember my uncle turning up to give me the news, including the fact it was a mess due to the fact of his delayed discovery.
I counted back 4 days and then thought, “Then what the hell was that the other night!!?”
I won’t go any more into that, but some of the things he said about future events were rather dire. Now he died in 1979. He also died at Number “X”, Rivington Street, Nundah, a Brisbane northside suburb. He appeared to me in my unit at number “X+2” Manson Parade, Yeronga, a southside suburb.
In 2005 I was driving a cab part time at night. One night I happened to be in Nundah and made my way to Rivington Street out of a sort of morbid curiosity. This got me to thinking about the things he said, so I prayed for a “sign” as I drove that might indicated if these things could be trusted or if they were a deception.
I got this sense back that I ought to know better than to ask for a “sign” (“a wicked and adulterous generation demands a sign etc…”), but I persisted anyway.
I don’'t think it was that night, but the following shift (two days later) when I was again driving the cab. I pulled up at my usual haunt of a cab rank in Queen Street facing the Queen Street Mall, and waited my turn. Eventually a bloke walked up, a bit the worse for wear, hopped in the back, and just said “Nundah!”
I replied “Where about in Nundah?” He said (he almost snapped) “Just drive! I’ll tell you where to go”.
So off we went, turning here and turning there, and ended up at “X-1 Rivington Street, Nundah”, virtually opposite the flat where my father died. As far as I was concerned, I got my sign, even if others might think it was a most unlikely coincidence. Brisbane probably has half a million residential addresses or more.
What intrigued me was that on the night he appeared, one of the things he said was “I always was doomed! I didn’t really have any choice!!” I argued back (even though I was an atheist back then) saying “That can’t be right!” He replied, “Oh, it’s right, all right. You can see that from here!”
But later he admitted “I was willing!”, so free will came into it.
Getting back to the cab episode, I had free will where I drove, there was other traffic, traiffic lights, other cabs on the rank, radio jobs, yet somehow as far as I’m concerned God brought this particular bloke to my cab just at the right time so that I ended up right opposite where my father died on the next shift after I asked for a “sign”.
Yet while I’d asked for a “sign”, I hadn’t set out to do anything different to normal. I was just driving a cab.
But He used both of us, despite our alleged “free will”, to give me the sign. Or I’m convinced He did.
And that was one of the few times I’ve ever asked for a “sign”. In fact I can’t remember any other occasions off hand.