Meko

In 2018 I traveled to Detroit to visit family before turning myself in to serve a one-year prison

sentence.

The next day I thought about my cousin Meko and decided to go visit her at her store. When I

arrived, she wasn’t there, so I returned to my hotel disappointed.

Later that evening I woke from a nap wondering what to do next. My friend Rod came to mind,

so I called him and we decided to meet later that night.

For some reason both of us changed clothes before meeting—each of us ending up wearing

almost identical outfits: black pants, a black shirt, and black shoes.

We laughed about it when we met and decided to go downtown to visit a few bars.

At one of the bars we sat outside watching people pass by while waiting for our food. Rod was

facing away from the street while I faced toward it.

As I watched the traffic go by, a car drove past that caught my attention.

It was Meko.

A

t the exact moment I noticed her car, my phone rang.

It was her.

She had seen me at the same moment I had seen her.

What made the moment even more remarkable was that she told me she hadn’t been downtown

in six years, but something had compelled her to go there that night.

Everything that had happened that day suddenly made sense.

My desire to see her earlier.

Rod and I changing clothes.

Our decision to go downtown.

The exact moment she drove past.

Every detail had aligned.

The moment reminded me of the passage in Mark 14:12–16, when Jesus told His disciples they

would meet a man carrying a jar of water who would lead them to the place where the Passover

would be prepared.

The disciples did not arrange that meeting.

They simply followed the instructions and found everything exactly as Jesus had said.

That night felt similar.

It was as if the details of the day had been arranged long before we recognized them.