Katie’s dad passed away more than 30 years ago, long before she became a miracle expert. So she never got a chance to really discuss the miraculous with him.
And yet, since his death, Katie has experienced one dad-related miracle after another…
I can still remember the moment Dad passed away like it was yesterday. He’d gone into a coma, after being diagnosed with terminal cancer six weeks before. For several hours his breathing had been labored, his eyes open and rolled back.
All of a sudden my mom, who was holding his hand, began to recite a prayer: May your soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace. As she began to speak, Dad’s eyes came down and met Mom’s eyes in recognition and peace. It was a surreal moment, one that I later recognized as the first miracle Dad gave us.
Later that afternoon, my brother and I were tasked with picking out Dad’s cemetery plot, a job neither of us wanted. How could we choose? What if we picked wrong? The gentleman helping us pointed out our options on a map of the grounds. “There’s a spot open down here by this path… or up here on this grassy hill…” he said. I glanced at my brother. My gut was telling me to pick the hill. I could just tell he felt the same way.
“The hill,” we said together.
“OK, let’s see,” the man said, cross-checking the map against a list in his hand. “That’s plot Number 41.”
My brother and I looked at each other again, this time in amazement. Number 41–that was my parents’ address number. A little sign that we’d chosen correctly.
Eighteen months later, my husband, Jim, and I were expecting our first baby and moving from our small apartment to a new townhouse in a gated community. As we drove down the freeway with a final load of boxes, I suddenly burst into tears.
“Katie, what’s wrong?” Jim asked, panicked.
“When Dad died, we lived in the apartment. Now he won’t know where to find me!” I sobbed, knowing I sounded like a crazy pregnant woman.
The next day, there was a knock on our new front door. A representative from the homeowners’ association with our personal code to open the gate to our neighborhood. “Your code is… Number 41,” the man said, explaining how the keypad worked. But I’d stopped listening. Dad knew exactly where I was.
It happened again just a few weeks ago. I had a story about my book, The Miracle Chase, in Mysterious Ways magazine. I wish Dad could’ve been around to see it, but I know without a doubt he would’ve been proud. You see, when I flipped through the magazine, I couldn’t help but notice the page that my story started on–Page 41.
This Father’s Day, I will miss my Dad. But I thank God for the miracles he’s sent my way since he died. Little reminders that let me know my dad is in a good place.
And who knows? Maybe, one day, we’ll connect again and finally get our chance to talk miracles.
Have you ever experienced a miraculous moment with your dad? Share your story below!