People often ask me a simple question:
"Do you believe in God?"
My answer has always been the same: "Yes, I do."
Not because someone taught me to, and not because of any religious debate. I believe because of certain experiences in my life that I still cannot fully explain.
One such incident happened when I was a school student, probably studying in the 8th or 9th standard.
It was the peak of summer, and we were living in our old house. Like many Indian families at the time, we often preferred sleeping outside during hot summer nights because the cool breeze made it much more comfortable than sleeping indoors.
Our house had a small open terrace-like space between the kitchen and the bathroom. On one side stood a tall building, and on the other side there were rows of tin roofs covering nearby houses. During summer, that spot would receive a pleasant breeze, making it our favorite place to sleep.
On that particular night, my elder brother, my mother, and I were sleeping there together.
It must have been around 2:30 or 3:00 in the morning.
The weather had started changing. There was a mild storm in the air, and it looked like rain might arrive at any moment, although it hadn't started yet.
Normally, I am a deep sleeper, especially at that hour of the night.
But something unusual happened.
A few tiny drops of water landed directly on my face, and one of them struck my eye.
Instantly, I woke up.
Even today, I don't know why that happened.
When I opened my eyes, I noticed that the wind had become extremely strong. The atmosphere felt strange and unsettled. Something about the weather didn't seem right.
I got up and looked around.
My mother and brother were still fast asleep.
The moment I sensed how severe the weather was becoming, I immediately woke them both up.
"Let's go inside," I told them. "It looks like it's going to rain heavily."
We quickly gathered our bedding and moved indoors.
And then something happened that I will never forget.
Barely a few moments after we entered the house, the powerful wind tore off large tin sheets from a house nearby.
These weren't small pieces of metal.
They were enormous sheets, probably 10 to 15 feet long.
The wind was so strong that it lifted them into the air as if they were sheets of paper.
I watched in shock as those massive metal sheets flew through the darkness and crashed directly onto the exact spot where we had been sleeping just minutes earlier.
What frightened me the most was the way one of the sheets landed.
Its rusted metal corner, sharp like the tip of a spear, struck the terrace in precisely the position where my head had been resting only a short while before.
I stood there frozen.
For a few moments, nobody said a word.
The reality of what had just happened slowly sank in.
Had that tiny raindrop not fallen on my eye...
Had my sleep not been disturbed...
Had I decided to ignore the weather and continue sleeping...
The outcome could have been very different.
Whenever I remember that night, I find it difficult to dismiss it as mere coincidence.
Perhaps some people would call it luck.
Others might call it chance.
But for me, it felt like protection.
It felt as though someone was watching over us.
That experience strengthened my faith in God in a way no book, sermon, or argument ever could.
Life doesn't always go according to our plans. Sometimes we work hard and things still don't work out. Sometimes we feel disappointed, lost, or wonder why certain events happen in our lives.
During such moments, I remind myself of that night.
The night when a tiny raindrop woke me up.
The night when a simple decision to move indoors may have saved three lives.
And the night that brought me a little closer to God.
Maybe we don't always understand how life unfolds.
Maybe we aren't meant to.
But I believe there are moments that remind us that we are not entirely alone.
Someone, somewhere, is watching over us.
What do you think?
Was it a coincidence, luck, or something more?
I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
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