Miracles? Devine interventions? The energy of the universe creating connections? An eerie but random set of events?

I witnessed an interesting merger with the sun in early July 2012, while driving near our home in Colorado Springs. A vertical vapor trail had helped it resemble a rising star. A couple of weeks ahead of that sighting, we finalized plans to visit my wife’s sister and niece in Quebec.

During the trip in August, we toured Saint Joseph’s Oratory at Mount Royal. Brother André Bessette, a distant cousin of my mother, founded the oratory in October 1904. He was appointed its guardian in July 1909. Brother André became known as a miracle worker by our family and countless others, even beyond his death in 1937.

To this day, the healer’s oratory contains stacks of canes and wheelchairs, devices left behind by his previously handicapped patrons. We discovered his miracles were confirmed in October 2010 by Pope Benedict XVI, who canonized him as Saint André. We have a saint in our family.

While inside his oratory, we asked for a successful pregnancy. We asked for a healthy baby. We asked for an end to several years of disappointment. Before leaving Quebec, my sister-in-law tucked away a birthday candle for us. We had felt a sense of confidence in a Chinease herbologist who provided us prescriptions a day before entering the oratory.

Back in Colorado, we quickly experienced a nearly perfect pregnancy. Our son was born the afternoon of his due date in August 2013 at eight-and-half pounds, a hefty size that’s atypical of the Pikes Peak region due to its elevation. He arrived without any pain or contraction medications. All natural. Roughly a year after asking for Saint André’s blessings, we had brought home a newborn son. About two days later, another rising star appeared.

This time, the star had formed in the knockdown texture of our son’s bedroom ceiling. It’s not a small blemish — it’s at least the length of a dollar bill. We built our home three years ago, so we’re familiar with every noticeable defect. This one hadn’t existed prior to bringing home our healthy baby boy.

Coincidentally, we had named our son Aiden, a Gaelic word for a little fire. While at the time it explained the new light, warmth and energy he’d provide our household, it now also feels symbolic of that recurring rising star, and the flame needed to light the candle that was saved for him near the oratory in Quebec.

When you live your life with an appreciation of coincidences and their meanings, you connect with the underlying field of infinite possibilities. This is when the magic begins. … When a coincidence arises, don’t ignore it. Ask yourself, What is the message here? What is the significance of this? You don’t need to go digging for the answers. Ask the question, and the answers will emerge. … What starts to happen, then, is that gradually we see correlations, images that repeat themselves both in dreams and in everyday reality. More coincidences provide more clues to guide our behavior. We start to enjoy more opportunities. We have more ‘good luck.’ These clues point out the direction to take our lives. Through this process of recapitulation we see recurring patterns and we start to unravel life’s mystery. Deepak Chopra, “The Spontaneous Fulfillment of Desire”