Soul Magic
BLOWN IN THE
by David McLaughlan of
Because my wife is one of those religious types she has a fair old collection of laminated cards and bookmarks with Bible quotes or inspirational messages. Some were given to her by friends and some by family members no longer with us. Quite a few of them mark passages in her Bible, while a whole other collection live in her diary - or should I say "lived" in her diary?
Just this morning she had left the dentist's surgery and was rushing to catch a bus on her way to meeting me for coffee. The road she crossed happened to be the junction of two main thoroughfares, four lanes of busy traffic.
Half way across she realized her shoulder bag was hanging open. Out flew her diary and all those little cards scattered across the tarmac. Snatching up the diary she dodged the traffic and made it safely to the other side.
She told me about this over coffee. Wasn't there any chance of gathering them up, I asked? But no, and I knew she would have if she could because one of those cards had been from her mum who died last year and it was very dear to her.
Afterwards we were off on our separate ways again, but I made sure my way found me by that busy section of road. By now the rain was pouring down and folk must have wondered at this man, walking slowly, inspecting gutters and drains, when everyone else was hurrying to get to shelter.
Well, I found one. I would have wished it was my mother in law's card, but, no, it was a laminated tract made by a friend from her church. I walked that stretch of road several times and inspected the gardens, driveways, bus shelters and even bins. Those other cards simply weren't there any more.
Funnily enough, the whole situation reminded me of dandelions, those beautiful yellow weeds. In full bloom they mimic the sun and towards the end of their time they become white puffballs of seeds. But the purpose of their existence isn't fully realized until a stiff wind catches them, dispersing the seeds here and there. And in due time a whole new crop of dandelions will come to be.
Those messages, those words of hope and salvation that had blown onto the road, weren't left lying about the place. I'd looked closely enough to be convinced that a good proportion of them simply must have been picked up by passers-by.
The seeds had been scattered. Doubtless some would land on fertile soil and spark off a question, a thought, a hope. Maybe, in time, there would be a new crop of believers. Who knows?
Oh, and the message on the card I found? "Finally, brothers, pray for us that the message of the Lord may spread rapidly and be honored, just as it was with you."
— © David McLaughlan
If you want to see more of the world the way David sees it, visit http://www.myspace.com/wayfarerstales