The earliest spiritual experience one of my
brothers, Bobby, told me about took place while his life hung by a
thread, post-car accident, when he was seven years old. At that time he
had
what is often referred to as a "near-death
event" [not near-death 'experience'], while semi-conscious and no one was
sure if he would be with us much longer. [That's a
story I hope he will himself share with us online someday.]
From the moment of that near-death event, I am sure he was 'called' to
be a religious, one way or another, and sure enough, when college years
caught up with him, off to a seminary school he went. Eventually
he and his young family moved to Oregon with certain religious
intentions, such as to create a church there, within hugging distance of
Mt. St. Helens, by the way, where they lived for a few years until not
long before it blew.
While there he held a job that was not religious in focus just to keep a
roof over their heads and all that. He held a good job with people
who appreciated his talents and hard work. But something happened
to the business and suddenly he was without any means to support his
family. Though he looked hard for a replacement job, nothing
seemed to work out for a while. And things got to be pretty
tough. One day they had hardly more than a little flour, salt and
pepper, and maybe some oil left, and it was more than time for a breakthrough.
Bobby loved to fish, and if ever there were a fishing heaven on earth, it
was in this part of Oregon. There were streams and rivers
everywhere and loads of fish -- at least by the evidence of the catches
other people were seen with just about any and everywhere. Bobby always carried a fishing rod with him, and
for the first years they were
there, he certainly gave it a go on a regular basis -- pulling over on
the side of the road in one of those idyllic spots with burbling stream,
fish literally jumping out of the water, and he never, ever, not even
once, caught a fish! ... Until the day they all but totally ran out of food.
That day, doubtless, he
prayed even more fervently than usual for some divine
intervention. He was passing a familiar fishing hole, in the midst
of the daily job hunting, and couldn't resist a little breather to make
just one more try -- he had never entirely given up. He threw the
hook out into the stream and one-two-three, in about ten-fifteen
minutes, he had a haul of fish that was just enough to sumptuously feed
him and his family that day!
Next day, the very same thing happened. Almost impulsively he
stopped at a great little fish spot, cast his line out, and, like they
lined up to get on his hook, he was back in the car with food to feed
everyone again for the day in less than 15 minutes.
Shortly into this fish-feast phenomenon, he found a new job. But
his initial pay check would not be in his hands until the first of the
next month, which was a good couple of weeks away. Without fail,
everyday, whenever he stopped 'wherever' to catch a few fish, he would
soon have all the fish they needed, and it never took but hardly more
than the time it required to cast his hook into the water enough times,
and so it went, without fail, every day -- until the day he received his
first paycheck.
From that day, forward, he never caught even one more fish while in
Oregon. And having been thinking he was finally getting the hang
of this fishing thing at last, he certainly tried! Bobby eventually
realized that that streak of fish was a genuine miracle in their lives.
And God knew it would mess up the fun if HeShe
let my brother catch any more fish than a fat, sleak miracle called for!
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