Every year as November begins, we fill a basket with the names of loved ones who have passed away. We pick a name each day, and we pray for that person throughout the day.
There is something beautiful about choosing a name randomly every morning. It gives shape and meaning to the day, and it helps me feel connected to people who have gone before us. Often, after I pull a name out of the basket, I send a message to a relative or friend to let them know we are praying for someone who is special to them.
November has ended, but we have more names every year—and we are still working our way through the basket as Advent begins. This morning, I reached in and pulled out my Uncle Steve’s name. He passed away last spring, and his was one of the first names I put in the basket. I stood holding his name, thinking of him, and wondering at the timing.
The thing is that months ago I requested a Mass for my uncle. Because his birthday is just days away, I asked if he could be the intention for today’s Mass. But I never would have thought those two things would happen on the same day.
There are 40-some names in the basket. I can’t tell you how many Mass intentions I request in a year. But today was the day when the slip of paper and the Mass intention happened to align.
I don’t believe that’s a coincidence. I don’t believe that just happened to happen. I believe that God makes these little connections because we matter so very much to him. I believe he wants us to feel seen and loved. And as grateful as I am for all the magnificent, extraordinary gifts he gives that shape our world and our universe, I have to admit that sometimes his love for me is clearest in the smallest, most intimate details.
Because he knows how much I love that connection. He knows that I will carry that with me, marveling at the timing. He even knows that yesterday I was wondering whether I should miss today’s Mass to go to an acquaintance’s funeral happening at the same time. God knows that I need this intention to come out of the basket today. And I didn’t know I did, but I did.
So, there it was.
It’s just a basket of names. But the connections happen all the time. Last week, we picked the name of a friend’s aunt—and I happened to see him and his wife, my dear friends, that afternoon. A few days ago, we pulled the name of my friend’s mother, who passed away this summer. When I looked at the date, I realized that day was the anniversary of her father’s death.
Call it what you will. I just don’t believe those are coincidences. I’m not saying they’re miracles, but they are moments when God’s love shines through, when he helps us connect in some small way with those on heaven and on earth. He loves us so deeply, so fully, and he meets us where we are.
“In the designs of providence, there are no mere coincidences,” said St. John Paul II.
As we continue through Advent, may we notice the gentle signs from God that show us his love, the signs that light our path and beckon us closer to him each day.
Copyright © 2025 Catholic Review Media
