Main Street, Arcadia, Nebraska

Ask yourself this: are there moments in your life when something happened that seemed to be out of the ordinary? Perhaps it became the kind of memory so unique that, even today, you wonder how it happened. Most of us would chalk that up to a Class One strange moment in life. It’s the kind of moment that seems to have been part of someone else’s life story.

Maybe the memory is just a curiosity that you filed away in the “That was weird” folder.

I have had several instances that I now understand were God trying to get my attention.

Here is one of them.

My life was on a hopeful uptick after a divorce and an alcoholic spiral to the bottom of despair. I was driving back to Redding, California, from Orlando, where I was training to be a quartermaster and signalman (quartermasters in the Coast Guard are different from what they do in the Army. In the Coast Guard, we worked on the bridge with the nav team. Army? I believe they work in logistics.) I was planning on visiting Arcadia, Nebraska, where my grandparents were from. It was close enough to I-80 to make a detour possible.

I drove into the small town, wondering if I could find any Hastings. So I stopped in front of a bar that seemed to be open and walked in.

It was small, with a long bar with everything a local farming community bar would need. There were three men dressed in the kind of clothes farmers wear to work their fields. The bartender came out of a back room and asked, “May I help you?”

“Yeah, my name is Derek Hastings. My grandfather was Sumner Hastings. I thought I would take a chance and see if I could find any Hastings here.”

Sumner was an infamous name there in Arcadia. He had gotten one of the girls in town pregnant and run away from the shame. My father was the result of that incident.

I wasn’t prepared for what happened when I said that. The three men at the bar spun on their stools with looks of amazement, their mouths hanging open. The bartender smiled and said, “Well, just stay there, I will be right back.”

My mind had no idea what was going on. Was this reaction a good thing? Or was the local committee to tar and feather visitors who were not welcome in their turf?

The bartender lifted the cutout section of the bar and told the men at the bar that he’d be right back.

The bartender led me out to his truck, shaking his head and snickering under his breath. When we were in the truck, he turned to me and said, “This is remarkable. Jean Hastings has just passed away. The reception is going on right now at her house. All the Hastings clan are there comforting their family!”

It was hard to say anything after that. I realized that Jean was my great aunt, the sister of my paternal grandfather, Sumner Hastings. “This is crazy!” I said. “I had no clue about any of this. I was taking a chance to meet one Hastings, maybe.”

The house was only three blocks away in that small town. The bartender didn’t even knock; he opened the door and ushered me into a small living room with a kitchen off to the side. The entire place was filled with my distant relatives!

“Folks, this is Derek Hastings. Sumner is his grandfather. He just showed up at my bar asking if there were any Hastings around. He was taking a chance on his way home to California. I’ll leave him here with his family. What are the odds for this?” he said as he turned and went back to his truck.

Again, I was the center of amazement. No one said anything for what seemed to be hours.

But then the hugs started. I was closer, DNA-wise, to these people than many of them were. I was Aunt Jean’s oldest great-nephew. Someone who was probably entirely unknown to them, as the family had declared Sumner persona-non-gratis in the family. He had dishonored the Hastings name and ran from the shame. But here was a physical reminder of a sore spot in the family history. And none of that mattered to my family.

I spent that afternoon talking with them and describing my branch of the family.

Was Sumner still alive? Yes, he lives in Dallas. How many children does he have? Two, and three grandkids, my brother and sister. He had another child late, and he’s actually my age. His name is Kirk. He also lives in Texas. What is your father’s name? Robert Dale Hastings. What do you do in the Coast Guard? I am part of the navigation team for the ship I am on. The Cutter Boutwell.

I was eventually taken in by one of my cousins to spend the night.

When I got back on the road to my home, I found myself experiencing sorrow at having to leave.

So was that a coincidence? Or was it something else? I am now a Christ follower, and I have experienced a regular flow of circumstances. What is the point? Why would God set these moments up at specific points in our lives?

In this case, this moment was not only for me. But for my family. I was a spark that ignited forgiveness for Sumner and removed grudges and bitterness from a part of their history lodged in their lives.

But why would God give me these special moments even though I am not born-again? Because God loved me just as much then as He does now. These events are meant to intrigue me and prompt me to ask questions about what happened. Or did someone plan this to get my attention with a story/testimony so extraordinary that it would spark that question?

We all experience these moments. As long as we hold on to the idea that many of the things the world calls unimportant are actually spiritually significant. If we believe that God exists, what is our understanding of God’s goodness and unbreakable love for us? Then we will habitually see these moments, not as weird coincidences, but as divine moments where God is subtly and humorously nudging us.

So ask yourselves this. Was there something important enough, with a head-scratching quality to it, that was more than just weird? Did it have more meaning to it than just a coincidence?

God loves us no matter what stage of life we are in. He frequently reaches out to us to cause us to seek Him. Life with Jesus is different than without Him. There are two parts of reality. The physical and the supernatural. Our final destination is the supernatural reality of the Kingdom of Heaven. Don’t ignore the nudges.

Originally published at https://dereklhastings.substack.com.