A PROPHECY IN WEST VIRGINIA

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Several years ago my son and I traveled to West Virginia to visit my daughter. We stayed at a Holiday Inn or Mariott, or something of that sort in the little town of Oak Hill.

Since there was a free breakfast downstairs, I decided to take advantage of it; given the slightly inflated cost of the room. Steve decided not to go down, and with this, I made my way to the elevator.

Arriving downstairs, I made my way to the breakfast room, and proceeded to fill up a plate with scrambled eggs, sausage and a biscuit. Now, grabbing a glass of orange juice, I chose a table next to an inside wall.

I suppose I had been devouring my breakfast faire for three or four minutes when a blond-haired, blue-eyed little fella appeared next to my right arm. I smiled at him, and he proceeded to say,

"I'm four," while holding up the requisite fingers using his left hand.

And with this, he smiled a smile as big as all outdoors.

Anyone who knows me would presume (and presume rightly) that I did not let the moment pass without a rejoinder.

Looking into those sparkling blue eyes, I smiled, and said,

"I'm 68." And I dutifully used my two hands to indicate a six, and then an eight.

Now, I noticed a young couple noticing us about fifteen feet away. They were obviously the little tot's parents.

What happened next surprised even me, although it was I who spoke.

Almost involuntarily, I found myself pointing at the little guy. Almost involuntarily I found myself verbalizing a very brief, but very poignant five words.

"You will do wonderful things!"

Yes, I surprised myself. I don't recall looking over at the young boy's parents, though they could not have missed my prophetic utterance. And with this, "Jason" turned and tootled back from whence he had come.

Now, while I am no prophet, I have never entertained any doubts about the source of my words. And in the years which have followed, not a month has passed that I have not reflected on that day, and I have sometimes shared this story with a friend, or client.

Post-script

Last night our pastor met with the department heads and others involved in ministry in our church, and spoke about his particular vision for our local congregation, and the roles and responsibilities of the Church in general.

Having completed his message, he said,

"Is there anyone here who would like to share something of a similar nature?"

No one rose from their seat, and no one spoke. And I found myself feeling a little, for lack of a more suitable moniker, spiritual nudge. I stood up, walked the ten or twelve steps which separated us, took the microphone, and spoke.

The topic of my unexpected opportunity to address my fellow church members?

A prophecy in West Virginia

Having shared my little story about my experience with that little boy, I finished with the admonition,

"And you know, I'm convinced that as believers, we should be doing some pretty wonderful things to make a difference in the lives that God sets in our pathway."

Before I left the church, I spoke to various members of the congregation; first one, and then another. And now, I walked up to one of my favorite people, a woman named Janice of about my own age, and she said something I had never honestly thought about.

"Do you think that little fella remembers what you said to him that day?"

While I had often thought about the words I had directed towards the young boy, I had never considered whether he remembered the old guy who spoke those words to him.

Not knowing his name or whereabouts, I am unlikely to cross paths with that little lad again, (and even if I did, I would have no way of knowing it).

And yet, I am assured, I am certain, I am convinced that...

he will do wonderful things!

by Bill McDonald, PhD