Chapter 25 - The Windows of Heaven
Coincidence Speaks
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Happy Friday friends! Welcome to Chapter 25 of Coincidence Speaks. As always, chapters are crafted so they can be read on a standalone basis. For the full experience head this way to start at the beginning!↩️
Three distinct sounds. Paul put the three syllables together.
“Maa — Laa — Kai.”
“Maa Laa Kai? Uh… OK… never heard of it.”
What could it possibly mean?
Onward to Chapter 25…
Chapter 25
The Windows of Heaven
The sun shone through a line of trees sprouting out of the pavement, the shade of their branches casting spider-like patterns on the asphalt. A cardinal chirped down from its crimson perch somewhere above the shadows.
Paul mulled and mused and muttered as he walked, wrestling with the prospect of tithing as he threaded through the sprawling parking lots linking his office complex on Monday’s lunch break, hoping to shed some further light on next steps. To be sure, he’d specifically asked his life for direct guidance — “hit me over the head with it!”
“But an inner voice coming out of nowhere?!” he thought. “This is a bit much!”
It went well beyond the incredible timing of the feedback loops he’d been experiencing—at least he could get behind most of those having witnessed the phenomenon in daily life too many times to count. But this—this seemed to be coming straight from somewhere inside of him.
“You know what else is a bit much? 10%! 10% is a freaking lot!”
The percentage itself was almost perfectly intimidating. After taxes and bills and basic living expenses, it was the exact amount Paul was putting aside for his family’s future.
But even if whatever the heck he was really “supposed to” be doing didn’t feel totally lined up with what he was doing career-wise, Paul began to sense a small spark of inspiration that maybe if he changed his relationship with his income, he could change his relationship with his career. And maybe that, in turn, would help alleviate some of the stagnation he had been feeling within it.
He skirted the narrow gap between two pickup trucks, angling his body sideways, doing an awkward gyrating dance to avoid the side mirrors. Sliding all the way through the vehicles, the full crux of the matter hit him just as he emerged on the other side:
It wasn’t just about his relationship with how he was earning money—about survival. It was how he was spending it. How he was managing his many blessings.
A new idea accompanied the realization, stopping him dead in his tracks.
“Wait… instead of giving a set amount of money to an intermediary, what if I put tithing to work directly—giving to people and organizations that I come across in daily life? And instead of trying to figure out where it should go through logic, I let my own intuition and the corresponding feedback loops send the funds wherever they want to go?!”
He laughed aloud, real enthusiasm landing now, turning around to head back to the office. The afternoon lineup of back to back to back meetings already seemed a little less drudgerous.
Paul froze in mid-laugh.
The rear window of the pickup truck now in front of him had an impossible set of decals on it. Squarely in front of his face. A row of ducks, with a big white one at the end. Just like the ones from Echo Lake on the winter solstice walk. Could it get any more obvious?
“Are you serious?! This is for me?” he sputtered aloud nevertheless, incredulous.
Then the truck’s license plate came into view. “JMU DAD.” Paul, in fact, happened to be a dad with a degree from James Madison University.
Apparently his life had a solid sense of Dad Humor too.
Of course, “Great Ideas” were always well and good in theory, but implementation within the reality of everyday life was always a different story altogether.
True to form, Paul spent the rest of the week second-guessing those inner sound impulses as complete hallucinations—that tithing was a terrible idea that would not only compromise his future career flexibility, but put his family’s entire future at risk.
That weekend Paul went to church with his family, still grappling with heavy skepticism. He obviously hadn’t been hit over the head nearly enough, because a full 10% of what he made was way too much to possibly consider giving up. Rather than giving any attention to the readings and sermon from the pulpit in church, Paul watched his frantic mind darting around in circles, looking for ways to assuage the doubt:
“There won’t be anything left for us if I part with that much. Plus there’s no way I could ever transition to anything new career-wise without saving up. Maybe I could just start with something smaller, say like 3% or 5%?”
The church congregation went quiet all around, moving to open prayer, and the very air shifted in the silence.
The silence! The silence brought new power with it, and Paul murmured under his breath, “Fine. If a full 10% tithe is really what’s being invited here—show me. Hit me over the head with it.”
Then he closed his eyes and worked to let go of his personal preferences in the matter. His personal preference, after all, would be to just win the lottery, give 10% of it away, and not have to worry about finances ever again—
But unfortunately, it didn’t seem to work like that.
Paul reopened his eyes a few moments later. They were aimed right at a bright cardinal red Bible in the pew in front of him.
And there was an undeniable inner pull to grab that Bible.
Like a tractor beam. Zero subtlety.
His arm shot out almost before he knew what was happening.
As soon as its well-worn cover was in his hands, another impulse came through even more strongly—so strongly Paul was taken aback. This time he wasn’t even in any kind of meditative state of awareness, yet a new impulse sprouted up out of nowhere, right there in the church, fully formed and beamed into his brain like instantaneous telepathic lightning:
“Fan Through The Pages. Stop Wherever You Want To. It Doesn’t Matter Where. Your Message Will Be There.”
Floored, Paul followed this second impulse without another thought, fanning through the pages, then stopping the crisp paper windstorm at a random spot with his pointer finger. As he sat there with his hand inside the Bible, a familiar feeling amplified, of spaciousness, of infinite potential.
“Trust…”
Paul gave up everything he had then, relinquishing any lingering personal desire for a specific outcome. He would go totally dead broke if that was what life had in store for him; he would even be that cracked and broken man on the sidewalk as long as it was somehow for the greater good. As far as he was concerned, whatever the Bible said at the place his finger was pointing was quite literally Gospel.
Eyes opened. An image coalesced into focus. An index finger rested right in the middle of a single passage.
Paul nearly fell out of the church pew when he saw where it was pointing.
“Bring the full tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. And thereby put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts, if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you a blessing until there is no more need.”
A shocked mind grasped at slipping straws. “What are the actual odds of landing on this exact verse right now?” The math ran through Paul’s head. “How many verses are there in this Bible? Like thirty thousand? So like a .003% chance?”
Hanging skepticism morphed into stunned curiosity at lightning speed as his numerically oriented business brain was unable to wrap itself around the statistical improbability. The support in favor of tithing couldn’t BE any more blatant….
“Wait…
He gulped.
no WAY…”This particular verse he’d landed on was the very last chapter of the Old Testament. It was the book of—
“Oh my God…
It’s the book of MALACHI…”
The last bastions of all fear and doubt evaporated into the ether. And the sheer awestruck humility filling Paul’s heart threatened to overwhelm him right there in the church, and he just sat there, quiet tears shining down his face, hoping he didn’t jump up in the middle of the congregation or break out in tongues or something.
The last thing he wanted was to embarrass Clara or freak out his kids.
End Chapter 25
Chapter 26 of Coincidence Speaks will post next Friday. Thanks for being here in interactive real time! Comments and feedback always welcome.
In gratitude,
E.T. Allen
Thank you, E.T.
I really enjoyed reading this chapter. I was floored when I saw this about windows in heaven.! Interesting story: I met a woman at a library where I was giving a poetry reading in 2008. She asked me if I had any poetry that dealt with a daddy going to heaven. She said her 5 year-old son was having a very hard time because his daddy died and he just didn’t understand.
At the time, I had nothing to help her with. I told her I would see if I could write one for her. About a week later, I called with my poem about “Windows in Heaven”. I put the poem in my first book after I gave it to her. She said it helped him understand.
“…And thereby put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts, if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you a blessing until there is no more need.”
“What are the actual odds of landing on this exact verse right now?” Indeed!
Windows in Heaven
(pg. 53, “Barking Spiders Poetry (and Other Such Stuff), 2009)
by C.J. Heck
I know sometimes that clouds bring rain
In wintertime it's snow.
And spring is good because it makes
The pretty flowers grow.
I know that God is everywhere
And angels all have wings,
That dogs can't talk and bunnies hop.
I know so many things.
But why do Daddies go away?
It makes kids and Mommies sad.
Are there windows up in Heaven?
Did I do something bad?
Mommy said it's not like that ...
Children all are good.
Sometimes Daddies just can't stay
Even though we wish they could.
She said Daddy loves me most of all
Not to think he doesn't care ...
And he sees me from the windows ...
God just needs him more up there.
Quite powerful, this opening to trust. Of how easy it is to let doubt creep back in. I love that Paul experiences this serendipity as humility. Such a good reminder of how little we actually know.