Are You Looking For A Sign?

Dad was gone. It had been three days now. This was a reality that I would have to face. There was nothing I could say or do that was going to change the fact that he was gone. My father had died. It was a shock. I called his cell phone over and over again just to hear his voice message.

Every emotion I've ever felt in my life and even new ones that I'd never experienced I was now feeling with every breath I took.

It was the last night we would be spending in Dad's house. We were leaving early in the morning to catch our flights back home. So, the taxi was coming at 5:00 am. The next morning, after I was packed and dressed, I walked into Dad's kitchen. I noticed his cell phone sitting on the counter. The light was blinking. Dad had messages. For some reason, I felt compelled to hear them. Something inside me was telling me that I must listen to his messages. I picked the phone up and began entering random numbers hoping one of them would be his password. I kept getting the same voice over and over again saying, "You have entered an incorrect password. Please try again." I was getting pissed.

I started to yell at God (again!). "God, I need my father's password, I need to hear his messages, PLEASE give me his password!" After 15 minutes went by, Brenda walked in. I said, "Do you know Dad's password? I have to hear his messages!" She said, "No, but try this number". I did. The voice changed. "You have 13 new messages." I couldn't believe it! I was in!

I listened to messages from days earlier when we called Dad begging him to call us back. Then I heard a message that changed everything. It said, "Hi Bob. This is Michael. I'm the cab driver who drove you home from the doctor on Friday. I reallly enjoyed our conversation, Bob. I want you to know that I never do this, but I would really like to speak with you again. It's like I told you, Bob, Jesus really is the only answer to all your problems. Call me sometime. Here's my number xxx-xxx-xxxx. I look forward to hearing from you."

I was stunned. I couldn't speak. I began to cry. At that moment, I knew one thing. Michael had just become my new best friend. I wrote his number down and made the decision to wait and call him when I returned to Charlotte.

I did. He didn't answer. I left a message. "Michael, this is Bob's daughter, Vikki, the man you took to the doctor last Friday. Can you please call me at xxx-xxx-xxxx? I MUST talk to you right away!"

An hour later, my phone rang. The voice on the other end said, "Is this Vikki?" "Yes, is this Michael? Please, Michael, tell me everything that was said to my father in your cab Friday night. It's important. Please tell me!"

And then, without hesitation, he said, "Vikki, are you looking for a sign?"

I couldn't control myself. I began to weep. Right on the phone, I wept to a total stranger like a baby. I said, "Why did you say that! Tell me! Why did you ask me if I was looking for a sign?" He said, "I don't know. But, if you are looking for a sign, you should know that your father accepted Jesus in my cab Friday night. And he was very proud of you."

In that moment, I realized something. God hears us and cares about every detail of our lives. He knew I needed to know. He made sure I heard exactly what I needed to hear. I had my answer! I had my sign. And then, I knew. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I knew.

I had my sign. Dad was ok. And one day, I knew I'd hear again, "Hi Baby Girl, it's your Dad!"