God winked at me the other day. Some say the stars aligned. But I know it was more than chance. What happened was a sign!
It wasn’t just coincidence. The Good Lord smiled at me. Out of the blue without fanfare… a serendipity!
“What are the odds?” I asked myself. And to myself replied, “That was a Godwink! Nothing less! My Father’s on my side!”
In addition to each week’s post on this website, Greg Asimakoupoulos offers daily video devotionals on his YouTube channel. Here is a sample video. If you are interested in receiving these devotionals Monday through Friday, you can subscribe on Greg’s channel.
It’s a small world after all. Just ask Kevin Bacon!
You’ve heard of Kevin Bacon? He’s the guy with six degrees. But he can’t claim that moniker alone. The contacts that connect us all would blow us all away if we could see God’s chart by which we’re known.
It is quite likely you’ve a friend who knows a VIP who knows the CEO of IBM. Or maybe that good friend of yours is friends with JD Vance or maybe with the KC Chiefs’ GM.
But it’s not just our friends of friends who link our lives to theirs who in the process make the world so small. We are related (you and I) no matter where we’re from. We are one big fat family after all.
To trace your DNA is fun. It’s quite informative. You may discover you have royal blood. You just might be related to a much-loved movie star when all along you thought you were a dud.
In addition to each week’s post on this website, Greg Asimakoupoulos offers daily video devotionals on his YouTube channel. Here is a sample video. If you are interested in receiving these devotionals Monday through Friday, you can subscribe on Greg’s channel.
Jim Griset with a book given to his father in 1919 at his grandmother’s grave
During Christmas break 2005, I visited my favorite thrift store near my in-laws in Southern California. What I discovered was a treasure that meant as much as any gift I’d received beneath the tree.
There on a dusty bookshelf was a slender antique volume entitled “Nearer My God to Thee.” That old hymn reminded me of the Titanic’s tragic voyage. As you may have read, while the famous ship was sinking, the band remained on deck playing that poignant melody.
I opened the fly leaf of the book and noticed a handwritten inscription. The beautiful script acknowledged the 8th birthday of Francis Griset and the date of his birth. July 14, 1911. It was signed by one of Francis’ grandmothers. Because I was already thinking of the Titanic, it struck me that this young boy was born just nine months before the infamous vessel struck an iceberg on April 14, 1912. As I held the book and focused on the personal inscription, I felt as if I had found buried treasure. And to top it off, my find was only 99 cents.
For the past nineteen years that little treasure has been a valued part of my collection of Titanic memorabilia that includes a plastic model of the ship and several books that document the disaster. I have displayed the book as an illustration whenever I have preached one of my favorite sermons: “Spiritual Lessons from a Sinking Ship.” In a newspaper column I wrote three months ago referring to the Titanic, I referenced my antique book including a photo.
Upon my return to the States from three months in Switzerland, I was retrieving a boatload of voicemails on my landline. One message stopped me in my tracks. It was from a man by the name of Jim Griset. His brief message indicated that someone had sent him one of my newspaper columns. He went on to say that it was an article about a book I’d found in a thrift store inscribed to a Francis Griset. In his recorded message he informed me that Francis was his father. I was stunned.
Returning his call, I thanked Jim for reaching out to me. He told me about his dad who had died in 2005. Upon asking more about his father, I discovered that Francis was only nine months old when his twenty-four year old mother died (ironically on the same day the Titanic went down).
Jim told me it was Francis’ maternal grandmother who inscribed the book to him on his eighth birthday. Quite conceivably she gave the boy the book because of what it represented. It’s quite possible the hymn and the book were meaningful to her because of its connection to the Titanic story. After all, she lost her daughter (Francis’ mother) to death on the same day 1,500 lives were lost in the North Atlantic.
In our conversation I was fascinated to learn that Jim’s father and my wife’s parents (although they never met) lived in the same community and both attended Presbyterians churches. I told Jim that my in-laws were career missionaries with Wycliffe Bible Translators started by William Cameron Townsend. He told me that his dad was actually related to the Townsend family. Another small world connection!
Jim related to me that as his dad grew older, he would often play hymns for his father on the piano. Ironically it was the very piano given to Francis’ mother before he was born by the same grandmother who gave him the book. Jim told me his dad loved it when he played “Nearer My God to Thee.” What he’d received as a child had taken root deep in his young heart. And for good reason.
As Jim continued to share information about his dad, something else dawned on me. Francis received the book from his grandmother in the summer of 1919 during the Spanish Flu pandemic when people were dying throughout the nation. That beloved hymn must have offered comfort to young Francis just as they had to the grieving woman who had given the book to him.
When Jim and I finished our conversation, it was clear what I had to do. With joy I mailed the book to its rightful owner.
The entrance sign to the International Church of Lucerne
Some might call it a coincidence. I choose to call it a Godwink!
After the first of the year, my wife and I were contacted about possibly serving the International Church of Lucerne in Switzerland. Their pastor had just retired and they were looking for someone like to me to provide pastoral leadership for three months until the new pastor from The Netherlands would arrive.
The opportunity was too good to pass up. In addition to seeing a new part of the world, accepting the job would allow me to do what I love. Having recently retired, I was excited to be able to preach again. And on Easter Sunday no less. After all, Easter Sunday is my very favorite occasion to lead God’s people in worship. For me it’s the most important day in the Christian calendar.
About the time I accepted the invitation to go to this English-speaking congregation in the Alps, something else was happening I knew nothing about. The headmaster of Whittier Christian High School in Southern California was finalizing the itinerary of a study tour in Europe for his students, staff and parents.
When Carl Martinez learned from the travel agency that his group would be in Lucerne on Easter Sunday, he went on an internet search to see if there was an English-speaking congregation in the city. Upon discovering the International Church of Lucerne online, he contacted the church who extended a gracious invitation to join them.
As Wendy and I prepared to leave for Switzerland, the church chairman let me know that my third Sunday in Luzern would be a rather unusual one. She indicated that the size of the congregation would likely double with a school group from the United States attending ICL for Easter worship.
When I learned the name and location of the school that would be coming, I was immediately intrigued. My wife Wendy had taught at Whittier Christian School forty-eight years ago. What were the odds that a group like that would be worshipping with us during our short stay? I couldn’t help but wonder if one of the parents or faculty traveling with the group might have been a student in my wife’s third grade class back in 1976.
After landing in Switzerland, I began to work on the details for Easter Sunday at ICL. I decided to Facetime with the headmaster of the Whittier School. I expressed delight that his group would be joining us to celebrate Christ’s resurrection. I also indicated my wife’s connection to his school. Mr. Martinez told me that although the campus at which my wife had taught had closed some years ago, it was entirely possible that one of the parents or staff from his group might have attended Wendy’s school at the time.
I told Mr. Martinez that we were looking forward to having a group from Southern California with us. I related our family’s connection to the area. My wife’s ninety-three year old parents have lived in Orange County for over fifty years. Additionally, I told him that my wife’s brother lives in Yorba Linda, California and attends the Evangelical Free Church there.
“Wait!” Mr. Martinez interrupted. “Your brother-in-law is a member of the Free Church in Yorba Linda? That’s where I’ve attended for the past twenty years. What’s his name?”
When I told Mr. Martinez my wife’s brother was Dave Steven, he informed me they were part of the same men’s ministry. It was simply amazing! Of all the hundreds of churches there are in Southern California, how likely would it be that this headmaster who was bringing his school group to our church in Switzerland was part of my brother-in-law’s church?
Before we hang up the headmaster said, “Oh there’s one more thing, Pastor Greg. You might be interested in knowing that our original itinerary had us in Stuttgart on Easter. A recent change means we’ll be in Lucerne.”
Looking back, I discovered that the travel agent for the school group made the change in their itinerary about the time my wife and I were contacted about serving the congregation in Switzerland. He knew nothing about the church or the church’s interim pastor. And how appropriate! Easter is all about unexpected turns of events that find us scratching our heads in amazement.
An iconic sign in my hometown calls to mind more than childhood memories
Our family moved to Wenatchee, Washington on a hot July day in the summer of 1964. It was the very day that country music legend Jim Reeves was killed in a plane crash.
An iconic sign with moveable eyes welcomed us as we entered town. The Skookum Indian greeted us with a knowing gaze. As a twelve-year-old I was impressed by the searching eyes and the eventual wink of that motorized apple label image.
Although I moved away from the valley when I graduated from college, regular visits home to see my parents and my brother weren’t complete with exchanging glances with Skookum. After I married, family vacations inevitably included trips to Wenatchee for my three daughters to be spoiled by their grandparents.
As we drove into town, I would alert my girls to the fact that Skookum was looking for them. With excitement Kristin, Allison and Lauren would crane their necks to look for the searching eyes of that friendly face. When one of the those moving eyes winked, they laughed with glee. They were convinced that the young Indian brave had spotted them.
Although that familiar image no longer graces the skyline of our town, I picture Skookum each time I drive the Avenue. For me, that face was a tangible reminder that my Father in Heaven is continually aware of what is going on in my life. And that’s a comforting thought.
At Christmastime we refer to the omniscience of Santa while singing “He sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you’re awake. He knows if you’ve been bad or good so be good for goodness’ sake…” The lyrics of that holiday classic are meant to motivate little ones to be on their best behavior throughout the year.
Looking back, however, my sense is that the never-sleeping eyes of Santa are viewed through the lens of guilt or threat. “You’d better watch out! I’m telling you why…”
The supernatural traits ascribed to that fictional Yuletide figure actually derive from One who truly is all-knowing and ever-present. The God we worship, as the old African American spiritual declares, “never sleeps. He never slumbers. He watches over you both night and day…”
Whereas some view that cosmic all-seeing eye with a sense of dread, I find a sense of comfort in knowing that nothing escapes the purview of Providence. There is a passage in the Old Testament that references the searching eyes of God. It’s found in 2 Chronicles 16:9. “The eyes of the LORD search the whole earth in order to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him.” Rather than thinking of God’s awareness of our attitudes, actions and reactions from a negative point of view, the aforementioned Scripture suggests that God’s focus on our lives is a good thing. It is intended to have beneficial results. In other words, God’s awareness of my desire to please Him has a promised payoff.
The all-knowing nature of God is nothing to be feared. It is a truth to take hold of with gratitude. When we feel like nobody knows the trouble we’ve seen, we can be assured of the fact that God knows and cares.
Several years ago our family was traveling in Greece visiting the village from which my paternal grandfather immigrated to America. My girls, now grown, were introduced to an icon of an eye sold by a street vendor. This blue and white glass ornament symbolized the eye of God. This beautiful keepsake conveyed a simple but profound truth.
Unlike the winking eye of a Wenatchee icon that had defined their childhood, this “God’s eye” didn’t wink. It is a constant reminder, to my children and to me, of God’s continual awareness and His constant care. I, for one, am glad He never sleeps.
My Rhymes and Reasons 