Just proof that all creation, then and now ,

Is made of meaningful coincidence,

Reality of strange significance.

(A Book of Psalms, Edward Clarke, 125)

Often I’ve wondered how the writers of the original Psalms can go on and on about knowing and keeping God’s laws, and finally I get why.  Because they knew it was more than the endless rules set down in the Torah, but the daily guidance set forth in “meaningful coincidences.”  God was speaking every day through the creation that was alive with meaning, if only we would listen to it.  These were the “laws” that we may easily neglect.

A single deer just crossed the road, heading into my backyard. I thought of her, somewhat resentfully, munching on our hostas while we were out of town.  I thought again and realized that we were sharing the fruits of the earth with our neighbors, though not intentionally.  Our hostas won’t be blooming this year, but they have provided life for those neighbors that struggle to live off the land. That is a meaningful coincidence: learning to share with my neighbors.

I find the intrusion of deer on our property like a visitation, a miracle of heaven. They are surviving in a suburban neighborhood that grew up around them. They learned to accept it and feed on it.. They cross the busy street in front of our house with no small peril, but they have learned to cross at dawn and dusk when the traffic is light.  The deer that cross the more trafficked streets in my community are not always so lucky.

Our neighbors live in a wooded ravine at the back of our backyard extending from higher ground to lower.  They seem to find adequate forage there, but it does not prevent them from munching on our garden closer to our house. Some mornings we catch them in the act and enjoy their company, but we have sprayed our hostas with “Deer-Out,” because we wanted them to bloom. That dream has been munched away another year. Today I realized that the hostas are a community’s resource, not solely for our benefit. I am not always glad to share, but I understand now it is about sharing, rather than guarding our property against intrusion.

Is this one of God’s meaningful coincidences or did we just do a poor job of protecting our hostas? In spite of the ravaging of plants we wanted for our own pleasure, I still feel honored by the visitation of deer.  They contribute a kind of innocence to our lives that we find lacking in the greater world.  They trust us within eight feet of our windows or twenty feet when we are out in the yard.

One morning we woke to find a fawn sleeping in our garden, barely ten feet from our house.  We didn’t even notice until the speckled body began to stir.  Once we recognized each other, the fawn moved away, but not with panic, more like judging what a safe distance might be.  That visitation seemed such a blessing, to share our garden with a wild thing.

For about two years we have observed a limping doe on the fringes of our yard. She was always by herself until this June, when we saw her limp across the street followed by a tiny fawn. We called the mother “gimpy.”  We have been astonished to see her survive, let alone give birth to a fawn.  She is her own miracle of endurance.

Fortunately we are not sharing our yard with bear or raccoons, the more presumptuous of God’s creatures. That might break the spell of the visitation and blessing.  What we have is the “meaningful coincidence” of innocent neighbors, who occasionally cross the boundaries of cultivated land to feast on plants not provided for their dinner.

We are dismayed by our loss, but honored to have such neighbors.

Wayfarer though I am on the earth,

do not hide your commandments from me.

( Psalm 119:10)