Miracles in My Life. Pt. 4

Although I have experienced the privilege of counseling thousands, teaching hundreds and mentoring dozens, I never thought my life all that special or unique …until I began to write about my numerous ‘chance’ meetings and interactions with some notable people of our time, and reflected on a series of what can only be described as miracles in my life.

I have sometimes mused about what I refer to as a “Providential Lack of Providence.” I know. The phrase seems almost a contradiction in terms. 

Nevertheless, the ways of the Lord are, as scripture infers, “past finding out.”

At this writing, I have lived a full six decades and seven years, and have experienced numerous “near misses.” 

As a young man I was employed at a local phosphate mine. My role there involved working in a two man shed referred to as a Pit Car. I and another fella sat on stools five evenings a week, and used joy sticks to direct a high pressure stream of water at the phosphate feed a nearby dragline deposited; perhaps 50 feet from our location. One night I decided to take a break, and visit my friend, the dragline operator. Not being “the brightest match in the box,” I struck out across a muddy expanse which separated me from the dragline, and as a result found myself in imminent danger.

I think I heard it before I saw it. The semi-circular sweep of a massive steel bucket, large enough to fit two pickup trucks, and weighing all of twelve or fourteen tons. Only seconds from certain death the dragline operator dropped the outrageously large bucket; allowing it to slam into the sandy incline of the pit he had labored for such a long time to excavate. 

I had offered to drive a couple of my fellow workers home. It was raining. I was demonstrating my vehicular prowess. The rest is, well, the rest of the story. For you see, I managed to “straighten out a curve,” rolled my car two or three times, and we ended up, none the worse for wear, (except for my 64 Ford Fairlane) on the grassy shoulder of the road.

My wife and I have shared a couple of potential accidents while traveling a nearby highway; just minutes from the safety of our home. We were once involved in a “controlled crash,” as we missed the back bumper of a car on our flank by a few inches, summarily did a 180, and slid into the front yard of a neighboring house; caught our collective breaths, and drove home.

We had just filled up with gas and my wife took the wheel. We had only just entered the highway, and as we were approaching an intersection a service truck braked for a stop sign. However, a large ladder mounted on its roof failed to stop, sailing into our pathway, and at just the right height to crash through my passenger window. Jean and I missed being decapitated by mere feet. Thankfully, the ladder clattered ‘innocently’ to the pavement ahead of us.

Speaking of ladders, in the past couple of years I was unwise enough to lean a straight ladder against an old basketball post; in what turned out to be a futile attempt to trim an old oak tree which loomed high over my driveway. I knew I was in trouble when the ladder slipped; rudely spilling me to the concrete, below. Pulverizing one ankle and requiring major surgery.

Soon thereafter, I developed a melanoma on my right calf, an inch above the top of my yellow, florescent cast; the contrast thereof contributing to my wife having noticed the unusual shape of the mole, and providing me the wherewithal to seek medical assistance. (It occurs to me that only as the result of my afore-mentioned accident had the malignancy been discovered).

And based on these brief accounts, you might well imagine there were other ‘near misses’ to which I was privy; too many to name or describe here.

Providence

(or)

The Lack Thereof

Why someone like me has been given chance after chance. Opportunity after opportunity; when someone like one of my former classmates, with equally as much potential, or more, was stolen away from us in her prime.

I have stood at Beth’s gravesite. Pulled a few weeds. Leveled her headstone. Paid my respects. Who might have predicted our ultimate, though separate fates, as we practiced Handel’s Messiah, or prepared for an upcoming state contest; hers swift coming. My own long delayed.

What wonderful things she might have done. What inestimable good she might have offered the world.

It baffles the mind.

The only solace I have ever taken away from the entire thing is a phrase I once heard used for another delightful young lady who was taken from us in her prime.

In God’s great scheme of things,…her work was finished.

Her duties this side of heaven were simply done.

I can never hope to reconcile why some mortal lights, with limitless potential, are too quickly ushered into eternity, while lesser lights are allowed to tempt and try and torment those with whom they have to do, or simply live out bland and unfulfilled existences, and leave no mark upon their world.

The good and Godly, the eager and extraordinary who have preceded us in that inevitable march to a higher sphere almost shout.

Can you hear them?

“We who were denied the opportunity to live, and move and breathe beyond our few and fleeting years. The best we can hope for, and all we can do is to loan you the potential which was so rudely stripped from us and live vicariously through you.”

“Carpe Diem!”

“Seize the Day.”

“Make your lives extraordinary! Do not disappoint us! Earn every single moment of those years which were denied us. Impact your world during the brief time Providence has granted you; for the day is fast approaching when you will join us, and someone very much like yourself will take your place. How much light will you add to their pathway?”

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary, Vol. 29. Copyright pending

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