Coincidence? I think not, dear humans: Part One of at least Two

 

Heyyyyyy.  Emily here, coming at you with another blog entry that has pretty much nothing to do with our book but everything to do with real life. 

The magical part of real life.

The things that happen that might seem coincidental but aren’t because, let’s be honest, friends…coincidence doesn’t exist. It’s a simpler word for a complicated, cosmic, divine event no mortal can explain. 

Nicole and I have experienced a big one in our most recent writing history.  That being the not-so-coincidental events that brought us to our publisher of dreams and hopes, Monster Ivy Publishing. I’ll share that story next month. It’s a good one with a happy ending.

But!

For now, settle in and I’ll weave a tale of coincidence, God’s hand, helping a fellow human, and life lessons on a cliff in Zion National Park.

My fourteen-year-old son and I were headed to Zion National Park in a shared Uber with a driver named Tom, and two passengers from Chicago whose Jeep had a flat tire and ruined their plans for the day.  Meet Connie and Zach, two late twenty-somethings who were visiting Utah for the first time and who were enamored with the scenery passing outside the window.  (Connie: “Look at the color of these rocks!!!!! Yes, if it were possible, that many exclamation points would have floated out of her mouth after her excitement.) Tom the Driver dropped us off and we all went our separate ways after a lovely drive together.

 It was hot. Like triple digits hot. The lines for the shuttle were Disneyland long, so Miles and I decided to do Watchman’s Tower hike since the trailhead was close to the visitor’s center. We had a whole day stretching before us in a gorgeous place and were excited to do anything and everything.

We sweated our way to the lookout at the end of the hike and who should we see but Connie and Zach, our fellow passengers in the Tom-mobile.  We chatted for a bit, then Miles and I found a shady spot to enjoy the view before heading back down the mountain. About half a mile later, I heard someone yelp and rocks slide and looked at Miles.

“Did that sound like someone falling….?”

Author note: There are cliffs on this particular hike. Narrow trails and CLIFFS.

We rounded the bend and there was an elderly man on the ground, inches from the edge of a cliff and a woman around my age talking to him.  Here are the details: Joe is a 72-year-old from Connecticut who recently had a double knee replacement but hasn’t built his muscles back to functioning levels. He is 6’5, 300 pounds. He was hiking with his friend whom he had told to go ahead without him since he was so slow. She had, and his knees had given out on the way down the mountain and he was embarrassed. Annoyed. Humiliated. Frustrated.  Also, he was still on the ground.

Turns out, the woman trying to help him was also named Emily, also 43.  From Maryland but familiar with Utah and hiking in Zion for the day with her two pre-teen daughters.

I evaluated Joe for breaks/sprains/injuries and when we found that he was surprisingly unscathed, we attempted to help him stand. Oh boy.  Too big a boy to get to his feet, even with five of us.  Joe was still on the very narrow path, inches from the edge of a cliff.

At that moment, a burly kind of man rounded the corner, saw our struggle, and stepped into help. With him, we were able to get Joe to a rock where he rested for the next twenty minutes.

We handed him all the water he had left which wasn’t enough for such a hot day. He drank it all. We shared ours until we were all running low. I asked him if I could call his friend but he refused and told us all repeatedly to “Go—go without me. I’m too slow. Just go.” IN response, I repeatedly refused.

About the time he ran out of water, another couple rounded the bend and asked if they could help.  Other Emily asked if they happened to have any extra water. The girl reached into her backpack and said, “That’s so crazy. I had a feeling I should put in extra water right before we left so yes—here you go!” She pulled out an ice-cold bottle of water which Joe promptly emptied.

We got Joe up again and had a goal of getting at least 100 feet down the trail. At this rate, it would take us until dark to reach the visitor’s center. It was 1 PM. And still hot. But we were in this with Joe.

About the time we got him to the next rock, who should appear but Connie and Zach, coming down from the lookout. No, I’m not making this up. All of these things really and truly happened, and after we explained the situation, Zach told us he was going to run the 3 ½ miles down the mountain to fetch a ranger. Connie said she was going to go ahead and find Joe’s friend and tell her what had happened. We continued. Joe was still frustrated. I asked him to tell us a little about himself and the next hour and a half went by as Joe told us story after story of his beloved cellos and symphonic experience.

Two hours later, we found the most excellent, shady spot along the trail and got Joe settled just as an EMT came trudging up the hill, a giant pack and portable stretcher on his back.  We were only about one-third of the way down the trail after two hours but finally, help was here. Joe was saved!

You would think the story ends there and the Joe part does. I’ll never see him again and thought the same about Connie, Zach, and Emily. But the day would prove me wrong.  After Emily and her girls and Miles and I got to the visitor’s center and parted ways (after exchanging numbers),  Miles and I saw Connie and Zach again.

Author’s Note: Zion National Park is crowded, huge, and full of nooks and crannies.  Seeing the same people repeatedly is unlikely.

Hours later—after Miles and I had gotten some lunch, taken a shuttle into Springdale, shopped, walked, and explored—we got a text from Zion Emily (her name in my contacts) as we headed to dinner:

“Not to be creepy or anything but we are sitting in the ice cream shop and just saw you two pass on the sidewalk.”

And so it is that 10 people—Zion Emily and her two girls, Muscle Man who helped us get Joe off the ground, Water Couple who gave Joe fresh water, Connie and Zach, and Miles and me—were placed in the exact same spot at the exact same moment to help one Joe from Connecticut.  If Connie and Zach hadn’t gotten a flat tire, we never would have met them. We never would have seen them on the trail because they would have just been “other hikers”.   If Miles and I had followed our original plans, we never would have been on that hike at that time. If Emily and her girls had been one minute faster, Joe would have fallen and stayed there for quite some time. Maybe even slid off the cliff.  If the Water Couple hadn’t had the crazy thought to bring extra water, Joe would have been in bad shape, and if Muscle Man hadn’t come along, helping Joe stand could have taken a lot longer and resulted in one of us going over the cliff.

But all of it happened, just as it was supposed to. God knew Joe would fall and would need help from two women who would never think to go ahead without him. He knew Zach would offer to run down a mountain and Connie would go searching for Joe’s friend. He knew exactly who to put in the same place at the same time. He assembled a team of ten for one.  And it was absolutely, positively no coincidence.

Look at your life today and see all the non-coincidences that have happened to bring you where you are.  Joe is safely back in Connecticut because of a non-coincidence.

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Coincidence? Ha ha ha. Ummm. no: Part 2 of 2

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Lost in My Head: Mental Vacation Hoarding