DOYLE - 1969
I have a little story to share with you today. It isn't too terribly long and it's fairly uncomplicated. It is a story I must tell for it affirms there are moments in life when we must stop and catch our breath allowing us to glimpse God's very presence in our lives. He promises to direct our every step if we will allow Him to do so...
I met my friend Mary H. by selling my wares on eBay. By her account we've known each other for about four years and we've forged a sweet, long-distance friendship. I've never had the privilege of meeting Mary face to face, but we've spoken on the phone several times and often exchange emails. She is fun-loving and very talented and I've been blessed by her presence in my life. She has easily become a lifelong friend and I thank God for her generous, giving heart.
I, of course, live in Oklahoma, and Mary lives in my native State of California. Of the thousands of cities in this very large State she lives only about 50 miles from where I grew up. This gives us many wonderful things to talk about, lighthearted moments sprinkled with laughter and joy. We've shared a passion for parenting, the excitement of becoming grandparents and our love for all things old (especially laces). And sadly, we have the common bond of how living with a parent with a mind-robbing disease can affect ones very life.
So, it wasn't surprising to me when Mare called me up a few weeks ago and we began another long, satisfying chat. She had read my POST about my
5th Grade Teacher, Mrs. Ferguson and felt compelled to call me. Something in that story had jumped out at her and she just had to share with me something she was sure I would want to know.
In that Summertime Post (June 28, 2009) I mentioned a classmate by the name of Doyle Griffith. I had a wild crush on this cute, well-behaved boy and I continually faced the
wrath of my teacher for trying to engage him in conversation. Doyle and I sat next to each other for the entire school year and despite the fact I'm certain I drove him plum crazy with my chattering voice, he never failed to help me with my assignments or offer up an encouraging word. If my memory serves me correctly he moved away from our hometown the summer before 6th grade and I was to never see him again.
Such is life, I suppose. People come in and then move out of our physical presence all the time. I've learned to accept it. Still~over the years I longed to know of my sweet childhood friend and just what had become of him. As an adult, God constantly brought Doyle to my mind and I thought it more than strangely odd that I would remember a ten year old boy with such great detail. I mean...I was only ten years old myself, and had yet to do any REAL living...
And then came Mary.
DOYLE - ABOUT 2005
When the phone rang I immediately recognized the soft voice of my California friend on the other end of the line. Always upbeat and kind, the conversation began with...
"I have something to tell you, Rebecca...something I know you'll want to know. It has something to do with your 'Mrs. Ferguson' Post..."
After a long pause she continued...
"I knew your childhood friend, Doyle'...he's been in my home many times."
After reeling myself in from the shock of Mary's statement, she began to tell me the story of a happily married husband and father who had attended her church and had lived in her hometown. Not wanting to disappoint me with incorrect information, Mary did some asking around and found out that indeed Doyle and his family had once made the tiny town of Hacienda Heights their home.
Now...with millions of people living in California, what are the chances of someone I met on eBay knowing someone I had gone to school with in 5th grade? More so, what are the chances of me even mentioning a boy I hadn't seen in at least 40 years by name?
Mary went on to share with me that Doyle had been diagnosed with cancer and after being in remission for some time had succumbed to the dreadful disease a couple of years before. I felt sick. My heart was heavy and I was truly sad. Another young life gone far too soon and I was moved by the knowledge that another one of my childhood friends had passed on...
It's important that I tell you here that I
don't believe in coincidence. That said, what, if any, were the lessons to be learned from my present life intersecting with the one that I had left so many years before? Why had Doyle never strayed far from my thoughts and why was it that he was
always being brought back to the forefront of my mind? Why was Mary involved? Was there a deeper meaning here? If so, what was it?
Maybe it's just that these days I expect only miracles on a huge, grandiose scale and miss the more personal, everyday kind....
Maybe what just
seems to be a coincidence is nothing less than God tapping me on the shoulder, whispering, or even at times shouting: "I'm here! I'm with you! You are right on track with your life! You are right where I want you to be, Rebecca! Keep pressing on!"
I believe it is.
Blessings to you as you listen for the voice of God in your life...Rebecca
PS: Thank you Doyle, for everything. And, thank you, Mare.