Many of the people that God brings into our lives stay for the long-term while others enter the stage of our life and exit more quickly than we would have hoped. It is these short-lived intersections that can have the greatest impact on our lives.
Introduction
To those who don’t harbor a belief in God, random events in their lives are generally labeled “coincidences” and understood to be chance events governed only by fate and the ever-popular sectarian “karma.” I have a different take on events that most of the world would more likely describe as coincidence. To underscore my beliefs, I offer up two accounts where I have identified God at the intersections of my life. My stories of these life intersections underscore the divine direction by my Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.
Please don’t be under the mistaken impression that I have arrived at some elevated plateau of spirituality where I confidently recognize the hand of the Lord in my life. My moments of clarity are rare, and therefore, very memorable. Despite my frequent lack of focus in recognizing my Heavenly Father in my life, it is my belief, nonetheless, that He figures prominently in all the intersections of our lives without exception. However, we may often remain preoccupied and utterly fail to recognize them, even in our critical moments. We may experience greater acknowledgement after the fact. For me, it is more unusual when I do recognize God in the intersections of my life, especially as they occur. That being said, two events in my life are clearly identified by the governance of God at critical crossroads when I needed Him most. With the benefit of hindsight, I see these more clearly than at the times they occurred.
Divine Guidance Without a Clear End in Sight
In 1989, I participated in a live Christmas Nativity at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Farmington, New Mexico along with other Young Single Adults in the region. The production was more elaborate than I had anticipated! A makeup artist was called upon to transform me into a more realistic shepherd or wise man. I took note of the young woman who so thoroughly prepared my image for the role. Attractive and feminine with soulful brown eyes and medium blonde hair, she resembled Belle, the main character in “Beauty and the Beast.” Stylishly, yet modestly attired, she was meticulous in every aspect of her appearance and demeanor. The Nativity production carried forward without incident and I went home, unaware of events about to unfold.
A few days later I received a phone call from the girl’s mother. Hesitantly, she disclosed her daughter had mentioned me in flattering and favorable terms. Further, she disclosed that her daughter was recently divorced following a very brief but traumatic marriage. She continued, confessing to orchestrating an informal, yet thorough, background check upon me. Finally, she advised me her daughter would gladly accept an invitation for a date if I chose to proceed. She swore me to secrecy regarding her actions and apologized for her boldness, but felt impressed to act upon her impressions.
Those who know me best are well aware I’m not the aggressive type in pursuing a relationship. I’ve never been comfortable embracing the customary courtship rituals so common among young men. Following the unusual phone conversation, I considered all I knew about this young woman. I was very favorably impressed with her. Although I had never met her outside the makeup chair, I had been briefly acquainted with the young man she had married and previously held a low opinion of him. Additionally, I was well familiar with her extended family and their pioneer heritage. I knew them to be stalwart pillars of the Latter- day Saint and Farmington business communities. I felt honored they considered me worthy of dating their daughter. I was humbled in their trust of me. They were correctly confident I would be unfailingly considerate of their sweet daughter who had endured a unique brand of vicious emotional abuse.
Already in my late twenties, I had observed the majority of my friends and their natural progressions. They appeared spiritually in tune and acted with full confidence upon their personal revelations. Most had faithfully served missions for the Church and were already marrying. I, on the other hand, felt somehow deprived of the inspiration and direction that appeared to be flowing so generously through my friends. I wasn’t jealous, but I was genuinely perplexed that I seemed to be on the side of the road while everyone else was racing with gusto down the on-ramp of eternal marriage to merge into mainstream LDS society. In my mind and heart, I couldn’t proceed as others were collectively pressing forward. I felt a notable absence of spiritual promptings so common to my friends and associates, but I didn’t feel abandoned or rejected, only a profound puzzlement.
I felt an easy confidence in calling this exceptional young woman who very graciously accepted my invitation to accompany me on a date. Much to our individual and collective relief, we discovered we shared much in common, especially our love for music and the finer things of life. Spiritual discussions were frequent and mutual trust was quickly established. Our easy friendship soon flourished and we found ourselves spending more time together over the next several months. However, I recognized she was dealing with a number of significant psychological wounds inflicted during her brief marriage. Instinctively, I knew she needed time to heal emotionally. She spoke easily and openly, even candidly. I listened intently and patiently as I learned of her challenges to better understand her fragile mental health.
On a related note, I always invest heavily in all my friendships and associations. I could feel the onset of escalating pain as I sensed this relationship would likely be placed on hold. We jointly agreed we would allow her time and space to heal, but she stressed heartfelt apologies to me, knowing I would pay an exacting price for another man’s abusive actions. I experienced great anguish dealing with the separation, but knew this was best despite my personal pain and anxiety. There was not to be an easy fix or a quick remedy. Only time would determine the extent of her healing. I felt no motivation to persuade her to reconsider. I knew my role in her life would likely ebb, perhaps dissolve, but I knew it was right for her to navigate through her issues without my distracting influence, pure as it might be. I struggled mightily and found solace only in immersing myself in music and serving the needs of others. The difficulties might have been easier had I used the convenient crutch of anger as a coping mechanism. Thankfully, I felt guided to let my pain go without questioning why.
I soon learned my friend had moved to Salt Lake City to pursue her career as a dental technician. We had virtually no contact. I would see her parents from time to time at regional Church functions. They had developed quite an attachment to me. Likewise, I had cultivated and nurtured a great love for them. My social forays into the dating scene were minimal, awkward, and largely unsatisfying to me. Despite my overarching loneliness, I had little interest in pursuing serious relationships. That being said, I don’t know if I was carrying the proverbial torch for my distant friend.
Thirteen years passed. In the early spring of 2003, I was traveling extensively for business. I was a regional manager for a rapidly expanding car rental company. The workload was staggering, but I immersed myself in the exponentially growing challenges. Work and travel became my drug and addiction of choice. They were truly a merciful escape and soothing solace. I routinely called my parents every evening to check on their welfare. Before I could call them one evening, my dad rang me first. He informed me he had just fielded a voice from my past...... My long-lost friend, who by now was in her mid- thirties, had called my parents looking for me. She had recently left Salt Lake City and returned to Farmington. She was very anxious to reconnect with me. I was taken aback and hesitant to remove the long-term bandage from my deeply wounded heart. Might there be a signature fairy tale ending after all these years?
Within a few days, I returned home to New Mexico and went to visit my dear friend and her parents. Our long-awaited reunion was bittersweet, but warm and congenial. My friend confessed her bitter remorse and offered profuse, tearful apologies for her perceived neglect of me. She begged for my forgiveness. Having reconciled myself to the passing of this relationship years earlier, I harbored no negative feelings or thoughts. Nonetheless, my heart was significantly touched. She had dated no one during that time and carried a burden of guilt for having caused me such pain. I confidently reassured her that I held no ill will or negative feelings toward her. I assured her all was well with me, which she accepted with relief. At this juncture, I felt a strong conviction to remain an unconditional friend to her, even an advocate. Sadly, she hadn’t fully healed and seemed more vulnerable than ever. She was visibly comforted at my remarks and readily embraced our renewed friendship. Despite my hectic travel schedule, we conversed often on the phone as time permitted and soon our comfortable camaraderie was restored.
One evening in late June 2003, I received an urgent phone call from my friend. She communicated a desperate need to visit with me right away and was willing to come to my home. Somewhat alarmed, I obliged her request, but suggested we meet at a mid-point in Flora Vista between our two homes to minimize her time on the road. We agreed to meet within 20-30 minutes. I was fulfilling a Church assignment at the time but quickly completed my duties and drove to the appointed meeting place. I became concerned when 30 minutes turned to 40, then 50 minutes.
I placed numerous calls to her cell phone, but each rolled to voicemail. I repeated my calls, then decided I should go find her. I had an escalating uneasy feeling as I proceeded west toward Farmington. Approaching the city limits are large rolling hills. To the south of the road at the precipice of an embankment, I saw a phalanx of law enforcement and rescue vehicles with wildly flashing red lights. I knew instantly my friend had been involved in the accident precipitating their response.
I quickly approached the accident site where I identified my friend’s dark green Jeep Grand Cherokee crumpled at the bottom of the embankment, some fifty to sixty feet below the roadway. Thankfully, I recognized the police officer standing at the scene. I had gone to school with his wife. We spoke and he indicated the victim had already been transported to San Juan Regional Medical Center, but they hadn’t yet established her identity. I confirmed it was my friend and hastily called her parents. The officer conveyed the statement from an eye witness in an adjacent vehicle. She indicated that my friend had veered off the edge of the road, then lost control of the Grand Cherokee while overcorrecting before hurtling airborne to the bottom of the ravine. The single vehicle accident caused my friend’s violent ejection from the vehicle.
Rushing to the hospital, my friend’s family and I gathered and soon learned the severity of her injuries. They were significant, multiple, and life-threatening. Medical options were few and fraught with serious ramifications. Decisions would need to be made on treatment options, but not until she was stabilized.
Unexpectedly, my friend’s family turned to me for strength. Summoning my inner forces, but feeling inferior to their expectations, I joined my faith to theirs. We placed the overwhelming issue in the capable, loving hands of our Savior, Jesus Christ and our Heavenly Father. It was clearly too much to bear alone or even as a group. Throughout the tragic events, I maintained and projected a remarkable sense of calm impossible to describe and seemingly beyond my personal constitution. Additionally, I was blessed with perfect clarity in reasoning and thought processes.
Within two days, my friend slipped mercifully and quietly from this life into the arms of our Heavenly Father and His Son. I deeply mourned the passing of my friend, but felt an overwhelming peace overtake my previous sense of calm. My grief remains tempered with the undeniable knowledge that God has a greater plan for my friend and for me. I will go into the eternities with questions and speculation about why this happened or what might have been. However, I maintain a firm confidence in the efforts of our Heavenly Father directing me through multiple complex intersections associated with this tragedy. My knowledge is consistent as I remain resolute and confident that He actively directed all events for the benefit of His two children who had developed an eternal bond of friendship.
It’s been thirty-two years since these intersections served to define my life in ways I still don’t comprehend. I remain closer than ever to my friend’s family. I still don’t know why everything happened as it did, what it means, or for what purpose. More importantly, I don’t need to know. The Lord’s tender mercies have continued to comfort and sustain me as I intermittently ponder these events which remain forever fresh in my soul. This experience is indelibly imprinted upon my mind as a testimony that God indeed directs the intersections of our lives.
Submitted by Ron Frame from Aztec, NM
April 2021
Note: Ron's second story will be published next week.
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