If there is one thing I believe is true, it's that there is no such thing as a coincidence.
For instance, when the sun peaks out of the clouds of a cold, dreary day, giving you a sudden feeling of hope and warmth, I believe it’s a deceased love one telling you they’re all right and that everything’s going to be okay.
When you’re in the middle of a tough situation, and all at once you feel a sense of comfort enveloping you, I think it’s God's way of assuring you there’s going to be a way out of everything.
For me, this dynamic happens with music more than anything else.
Time and time again, various songs come on the radio with lyrics that fit perfectly into whatever situation I’m in, making me believe there’s no way they happened by chance.
This happened about a month ago right after my friend Evalyn Harris passed away. Her daughter Kathy was in our office to address the legal loose ends that inevitably have to be dealt with.
Kathy is such a kind, lovable soul, just like her mother. The pain of losing her was evident. I tried to offer my best words to support her however I could.
But, no kidding, not two minutes later, I got in my car to go to court, when a song came on the radio. It was Diana Ross and the Supremes, singing a song made popular more than 40 years ago, “Someday … we’ll be together.” Yes, we will.
It was similar to what happened right after my dad died. I had arrived at the office early enough to gather the morning papers, because I always liked laying them open so Dad could pick them up and start reading them.
But on this day, I realized Dad wouldn’t be reading the paper. Instead, he was in the paper, and that realization was just awful. I just stared at his picture and words below it, saying to myself, “Surely this isn’t real, right?” But it was.
That’s when I noticed the song that was playing on our office radio. Fleetwood Mac, singing another classic, Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow: “All I want is to see you smile, if it takes just a little while.”
I had to chuckle. No way that happened by pure dumb luck.
Stuff like that happens to me all the time. I made a guy mad in divorce court once (actually, that happens all the time) and as he ranted and raved, I heard Pat Benetar’s “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” come on over the courthouse speakers. On another occasion, I saw an old girlfriend at bankruptcy court and couldn’t help but think she one day had thought I wasn’t good enough. I finished my hearing, took off my suit jacket and drove all the way back to the office to Toby Keith’s, “How Do You Like Me Now?” I cranked it up as loud as it could go, too.
Even my dog gets in the act.
I went home a little early the other day (5 o’clock – the glorious life of a trial attorney) so I could take our dog Kobe to the dog park. He’s still a puppy, so he has all this energy to burn, and there’s nothing that makes him happier than to see my car in the driveway, door open, inviting him to hop in so we can go.
Because he loves this more than anything, he seems to love me more than anything because I give him this thrill. As I drive, he’s always licking my hand or trying to lick me in the face.
As we drove that afternoon, I had the radio on, as always. And it was tuned to a classic rock station, as always. That’s when I heard a song from Queen, from more than 30 years ago: “Ah … you’re my best friend.”
He supposed to MY best friend, but I guess on that day I was his.
Someone speaks to me this way through music. Maybe for you it’s a smile from a stranger, a gentle word from a neighbor or perhaps a phone call from a distant friend.
Whatever it is, that Someone wants you to know you’re all right. And whatever you’re going through will be okay. Try this quote on for size: "Everything will be all right in the end. If it's not all right, it's not the end."
There's no such thing as a coincidence. Now let’s all grunt and sing like James Brown together: “I Feel Good.”
For instance, when the sun peaks out of the clouds of a cold, dreary day, giving you a sudden feeling of hope and warmth, I believe it’s a deceased love one telling you they’re all right and that everything’s going to be okay.
When you’re in the middle of a tough situation, and all at once you feel a sense of comfort enveloping you, I think it’s God's way of assuring you there’s going to be a way out of everything.
For me, this dynamic happens with music more than anything else.
Time and time again, various songs come on the radio with lyrics that fit perfectly into whatever situation I’m in, making me believe there’s no way they happened by chance.
This happened about a month ago right after my friend Evalyn Harris passed away. Her daughter Kathy was in our office to address the legal loose ends that inevitably have to be dealt with.
Kathy is such a kind, lovable soul, just like her mother. The pain of losing her was evident. I tried to offer my best words to support her however I could.
But, no kidding, not two minutes later, I got in my car to go to court, when a song came on the radio. It was Diana Ross and the Supremes, singing a song made popular more than 40 years ago, “Someday … we’ll be together.” Yes, we will.
It was similar to what happened right after my dad died. I had arrived at the office early enough to gather the morning papers, because I always liked laying them open so Dad could pick them up and start reading them.
But on this day, I realized Dad wouldn’t be reading the paper. Instead, he was in the paper, and that realization was just awful. I just stared at his picture and words below it, saying to myself, “Surely this isn’t real, right?” But it was.
That’s when I noticed the song that was playing on our office radio. Fleetwood Mac, singing another classic, Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow: “All I want is to see you smile, if it takes just a little while.”
I had to chuckle. No way that happened by pure dumb luck.
Stuff like that happens to me all the time. I made a guy mad in divorce court once (actually, that happens all the time) and as he ranted and raved, I heard Pat Benetar’s “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” come on over the courthouse speakers. On another occasion, I saw an old girlfriend at bankruptcy court and couldn’t help but think she one day had thought I wasn’t good enough. I finished my hearing, took off my suit jacket and drove all the way back to the office to Toby Keith’s, “How Do You Like Me Now?” I cranked it up as loud as it could go, too.
Even my dog gets in the act.
I went home a little early the other day (5 o’clock – the glorious life of a trial attorney) so I could take our dog Kobe to the dog park. He’s still a puppy, so he has all this energy to burn, and there’s nothing that makes him happier than to see my car in the driveway, door open, inviting him to hop in so we can go.
Because he loves this more than anything, he seems to love me more than anything because I give him this thrill. As I drive, he’s always licking my hand or trying to lick me in the face.
As we drove that afternoon, I had the radio on, as always. And it was tuned to a classic rock station, as always. That’s when I heard a song from Queen, from more than 30 years ago: “Ah … you’re my best friend.”
He supposed to MY best friend, but I guess on that day I was his.
Someone speaks to me this way through music. Maybe for you it’s a smile from a stranger, a gentle word from a neighbor or perhaps a phone call from a distant friend.
Whatever it is, that Someone wants you to know you’re all right. And whatever you’re going through will be okay. Try this quote on for size: "Everything will be all right in the end. If it's not all right, it's not the end."
There's no such thing as a coincidence. Now let’s all grunt and sing like James Brown together: “I Feel Good.”