Now that you know what a Godwink is I can tell you what a Godwink link is.
Take a guess at what you think that might be?
A Godwink link is that person that links you to your Godwink. Let me explain a bit more.
Have you ever gotten an unexpected call from a friend you have been thinking about? Maybe your Godwink link was someone sweet at the grocery store who showed you kindness. Or maybe, just maybe your link was the person that delivered those God given words that you so desired to hear.
Just the other day I needed a friend. I went to Anthem coffee ready to sit down, read, and spend some one on one time with God.
(God has such a humor at times. I never know what I need. He is so good. He always knows exactly what I need day to day.)
As soon as I walked in I saw a friendly face- a girl from one of my classes. She invited me to sit with her. We sat there snacking and giggling and having deep conversation for 3 hours. It was completely what I needed at that moment. God heard my prayers that morning and he delivered.
My friend was Gods messenger. She was the link to my Godwink. It was no coincidence that I ran into her that afternoon. God had it all planned. She was part of it.
A lot of times we say to ourselves "What a Coincidence!"
No such thing!
The wink was planned and placed by him.
The link was used by him as a messenger to reach you.
You have no idea but you could be someones Godwink link today.
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In the book "When God Winks at You" by SQuire Rushnell he writes a short story that touches my heart called When God Smiles. I encourage you to read this example of a Godwink link.
Danielle loved smiley faces.
"They match her personality," said her father, Daniel Heard.
A musically gifted nineteen-year0old, she was about to journey to Los Angeles from her her in Michigan to meet with record producers who thought her songs might have commercial appeal.
Then the raggedy happened. A car out of control. A head-on collision. She died.
We simply cannot fathom the pain borne by her grieving parents and two older sisters. Life does not prepare us for theta kind of heartbreak.
Nine months later, her father was still feeling agonizing loss. Daniel stood alone on the rear deck of their home, looking off into the woods. It was a dark night. Black clouds filled the sky.
"Oh God... this still hurts. Dear God... please give me a sign that Danielle is okay. That she's with you," he wailed. Then bowing his head, his voice cracking with sorrow, he said, "I guess I'm not worthy."
A glimmer of light reelected from the deck. He looked up to see a wondrous sight- a hole had formed in the blackness of the sky, just enough for the full moon to fit perfectly into it. He stared, recognizing the craters near the top that looked like the eyes of the man in the moon. Then in slow motion, across the bottom of the moon, a narrow dark cloud drifted... and stopped... and turned up its corners.
In a direct, personal communication, Daniel was receiving a godwink.
For a full fifteen or twenty seconds, the full moon was a perfect smiley face, just like those Danelle had always collect and drew.
"I now counsel other parents who are dealing with grief," said Daniel. "I tell them they should expect that their hurt will come in waves. Occasionally, they'll get a sign- a godwink- to lift their spirits."
Three months after he witnessed the smiley face in the sky, Daniel and his wife moved into their new home. For one year, it had been under construction, positioned on the five-acre lot Danielle had suggested before her accident.
It was a cold Sunday afternoon. Daniel knew that before the first snowfall he had to pick up all the scraps of wood and debris left by the contractors. For three hours he labored, pushing a heavy wheelbarrow with loads of debris over the muddy terrain. All the while, Danielle was not far form his mind. Over and over again, he thought about the smiley-faced moon. He was glad God had spoken to him. He now knew Danielle was okay, but... he wanted to know that she was with Him.
His eyes moistened. A constriction grew in his throat. Out loud, all alone, he cried.
For another few minutes, Daniel labored, satisfied the job was just about finished. He stood, looked all around to see if there were any more scraps of wood.
There... there was one. He went to it and squatted to pick it up. It was a piece of siding, maybe ten inches long. He lifted it, turned it over. His eyes widened. Carved into the wood, probably by a nail, were the words:
"Hi, Dad."
For several moments of disbelief and absolute wonder, he stared at the godwink he held in his hands!
He couldn't wait to get inside to share the story with his wide. They talked about it. About the significance of the smiley-faced mood and the scrap of siding, both coming within moments of a plea to God for a sign of assurance that their daughter was in heaven.
His wife noted that the siding man worked with his son. Probably that's how those words "Hi, Dad." got there. Then they looked at each other and simultaneously shrugged: "So what?"
Whoever left that scrap of wood was a Godwink Link.
