Saturday, July 1, 2017

A PROPHECY IN WEST VIRGINIA. Pts. 1-2

Having first attended a small bible-based college in the 60's, I was afforded the opportunity of serving as an adjunct professor there a full four decades later; it having metamorphosed by this time into a university offering over fifty majors, including graduate level degrees.

Regretfully, virtually all of the part-time faculty were 'dispatched' in the next five years, and replaced by fulltime staff. I will, however, always be grateful for having been granted the privilege which was made available to me of impacting hundreds of promising students preparing for life and ministry. During that time period I met several of whom I sensed a special affinity, and as a result I have remained in touch through social media and email. One such young lady was named 'Sue.'
Over the past couple of years, (and for as long as I have maintained this blog) I have shared selected writings with her. As a result, a few days ago I shared a reminiscence with Sue about a conference I attended in which Ruth Graham, Billy Graham's daughter, presented a series of lectures. I happened to be the first person to walk into the auditorium for one particular presentation, and took a seat on the third row, center.
Suddenly, Ruth walked across the stage and seeing me stopped, and smiled and said,
"I'll be right back."
Well, dear readers, she may have long since forgotten that little innuendo,
...but I never will.
As I previously inferred, I shared this particular story with my former student, and reminiscent of the last scene in the movie, "Mr. Holland's Opus" Sue responded with,
"Well, that dear lady is the well-known daughter of an even more famous father, but you may well remain unknown, except in your little town.”

Pt. 2


Recently, I replicated a pilgrimage which my wife and I make to West Virginia and Kentucky on a bi-annual basis, as two of my daughters live in this region. However, since it had been quite some time since my son, Steve, had seen his sisters, and with Jean's concurrence, I invited him to accompany me.

While in West Virginia, I always stay in one of the only two hotels in Oak Hill, the Comfort Inn. Though the price definitely isn't right, (and I understand it is about to double) it is nice enough, and they provide a courtesy breakfast, thus I have found little or no reason to pursue another venue.
Speaking of breakfast, one morning while we were at the Comfort Inn, and enjoying our meal, a young family walked in. Father and mother looked to be about 35 years of age, and they were accompanied by a little boy. Having served themselves from the buffet, they sat down at the next table , and began to eat. However, their son seemed more interested in socializing with yours truly.
Stepping up to me, he smiled, lifted his right hand and presented three fingers, while verbalizing the same.
"I'm three!"
Returning "Billy's" smile I responded with,
"I'm sixty-eight!"
And then, so reminiscent of a passage from Luke Chapter Two, in which Simeon encounters Joseph and Mary and the child, Jesus in the Temple, (and for no apparent reason, except Providence), I said,
"You will live a very long life."
(and)
"You will do wonderful things!"
I cannot tell you where my words came from, nor whether they were particularly inspired; any more than whether my former student's words (See Pt. 1) were "for such a time as this," (though, thus far, it would seem so). And I can only wonder what the toddler's parents may have thought about my prophetic utterance.
Of this, however, I am sure. Before He breathed the worlds into place, or ever the sun and moon were flung into space, our Lord knew each of us by name, and dreamed some pretty magnificent dreams for each and every one of us.
Yes, I am sure of it.
I don't expect to ever see that precious little tot again, and he will almost assuredly live into the next century, (while I will not).

Nonetheless, I think God has some pretty marvelous plans for him, and somehow I'm convinced he will accomplish some pretty wonderful things.


William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary, Vol. 50. Copyright Pending.

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