Yesterday something unexpected, beautiful and ground shaking happened to me. I was lying on the couch going over some paperwork, when my mother called. I have not spoken to her in over 2 weeks (I know shame on me) and this was one of those check-up calls that we give each other from time to time. After a few minutes of exchanging niceties my mother asked “Do you know what I have been doing this morning?” “No” I responded wandering where was this leading question going. “I have been up this morning reading your book; you know the book you wrote several years ago?” “Yes, I am familiar with it”. (Several years ago I self published a book that chronicled my journey from sin to redemption. I sold about 75 copies) She went on to ask me if it was okay for her to read a loud one of the spiritual passages that I wrote. I told her that would be fine. My mother began to read my poem as if the words belonged to her and not her only surviving son. After she had read the last line, she stopped and asked me “That was beautiful and sad, David. You know this book never got the credit it deserved, but one day you will receive your credits in heaven”. I was left speechless, knowing that that the words I wrote many years ago on loose pieces of toilet paper in a bathroom stall was resurrected.
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