From Car Chat to Church Confirmation: A Jiu-Jitsu Miracle?
Sunday mornings. Usually a predictable rhythm of coffee, kids, and contemplation. But this particular Sunday held a surprise, a little twist in the narrative that began with a simple, almost throwaway comment in the car. My husband, searching for his "thing" – that elusive hobby that sticks – casually uttered the words, "jiu-jitsu could be kinda cool." A passing thought, I assumed. Until we arrived at church, and the sermon took a decidedly… martial arts-infused direction. It made me wonder, are some coincidences just too perfectly timed to be mere chance?
The drive to church that Sunday was typically low-key. Coffee in hand, kids (mostly) behaving in the backseat, the usual Sunday morning rhythm. My husband, ever the thoughtful ponderer, was musing aloud about finding a new hobby, something to get him moving and maybe even learn a new skill. He'd cycled through a few ideas lately – woodworking, learning the ukulele (which I gently steered him away from for the sake of our ears), even a brief flirtation with competitive birdwatching (don't ask). Then, out of the blue, he said it, almost as an afterthought: "You know, jiu-jitsu could be kinda cool to do." I nodded, scrolling through my phone, filing it away in the mental Rolodex of "Things My Husband Might Try for Three Weeks."
We settled into our usual seats, the familiar hum of pre-service chatter filling the sanctuary. The worship music began, a comforting blend of the familiar and the new. Then came the message. Our pastor, a man known for his thoughtful sermons and occasional unexpected anecdotes, began to speak about the power of prayer and community. And then, he shared a story. A member of our worship team, he explained, had been praying for a long time about his dream of opening a jiu-jitsu gym in our community, a place where people could learn discipline, build strength, and connect with others. My ears perked up slightly, but I still hadn't quite connected the dots to our earlier conversation.
And then came the kicker. Our pastor went on to explain that just that week, a generous donation had come through – enough mats to get the gym started! A wave of goosebumps washed over me. I glanced at my husband, whose eyebrows were somewhere near his hairline. A slow smile spread across his face, a mixture of disbelief and something akin to awe. It was as if God had eavesdropped on our casual car conversation and decided to provide an immediate, and rather specific, answer. The timing felt… undeniably intentional.
It's those moments, isn't it? Those little breadcrumbs that feel like a divine wink, a gentle nudge confirming that maybe, just maybe, you're exactly where you're supposed to be. We hadn't mentioned jiu-jitsu to anyone at church. It wasn't a topic we'd discussed openly. Yet, here was this seemingly random thought blossoming into a tangible possibility within the very community we were a part of. It felt less like a coincidence and more like… well, a perfectly timed answer to a question we hadn't even fully formed into a prayer.
Now, the question remains: will my husband become a jiu-jitsu master? Will our garage soon be filled with grappling mats? Only time will tell. But for now, there's a sense of excitement, a feeling that a new door has unexpectedly opened. And as for me? I'm just marveling at the way God works – sometimes in grand, sweeping gestures, and sometimes in the quiet murmur of a car ride followed by a surprising announcement from the pulpit. Perhaps our next date night will involve learning a few self-defense moves. I should probably invest in a mouthguard.
It's in these unexpected intersections of our daily lives and the unfolding of something larger that I often find the most profound beauty in the becoming. The little moments that whisper, "You're seen. You're heard. You're right where you need to be." And sometimes, that place just happens to have a brand-new jiu-jitsu gym waiting to be discovered.
