To: K-list
Recieved: 2001/07/25 17:00
Subject: [K-list] more synchronicity (corrected)
From: David Harrell
On 2001/07/25 17:00, David Harrell posted thus to the K-list:
This morning, at work, I was reading the newspaper (part of the job
;-) and listening to a radio talk show.
As the radio show went to a commercial break, they played
Marvin Gaye's song "What's Goin' On?" Just before the chorus of the
song, I turned a page in the newspaper and my eyes fell upon the lead
paragraph of an opinion column which read, in part:
______
...[L]ast year, the economy was booming. This year over a half
million
workers have lost their jobs ... What's different? In the words of
the
late Marvin Gaye, 'What's Goin' On?'
______
This is just one example of little things that happen to me all the
time. I don't know that they don't happen to everybody else too;
maybe
I just notice them more than most. But I do find it amusing when it
happens.
Last year, on my way back from (get this) a Christian conference at
Jekyll Island, GA, I was speeding through central Georgia and was
caught by a state trooper. I wound up getting locked up in the county
jail half the day because my license had expired months ago. (Oops.)
I had to get family members to wire money to me for bail and for a
motel room, and then I learned that my rental car had been
*confiscated*, and I'd have to figure out how to get home--from the
middle of Georgia to Chicago--on my own. Then I'd have to pay the
rental car company for however long it took their car to somehow get
back to Chicago.
Well, I prayed hard about it, as I usually do, and I relaxed and had
faith in the Most High. Actually, I saw it as kind of an adventure
and
a chance to ee His power in action.
Once out of jail, I ate at a Denny's and was served by a woman who
had
done time for manslaughter. She was sympathetic to me and served me
extra grub. I spent the night at a motel which gave me a free
upgrade.
In the morning, I had to walk a couple of miles (past farms and
houses
with rusty tractors sitting in front, and sometimes goats in their
front yards), to Jimmy Johnson's Wrecking Co. to retrieve my luggage.
I was then supposed to get a cab to take me to the Greyhound station
to get a bus to Atlanta, where a cousin would help pay the rest of my
way home.
Well, it turned out Jimmy Johnson was a good ol' boy in the truest
sense of the term. When he learned of my plight, he decided to let me
have the car back--for a $120 towing fee. (Supposedly he was doing
me
a "favor.") But he told me I'd have to hurry up and get out of the
county. He even told me a shortcut to get back to the interstate and,
hopefully, avoid any cops. I felt like some kind of fugitive.
Well, you know what? When I turned on the car, on came the radio
station (a gospel station) that I had left it on when I'd been
arrested. And the singer was singing:
______
Someday I'm goin' home
Gonna see my mother
Gonna see my sisters and brothers ...
______
Evidently, the singer was singing about going "home" to heaven, but I
was thinking in more earthly terms.
A few minutes later, after I had crossed the county line, I began to
relax a little. I decided to put on a new tape of mine, by a
Christian
rock group called 4HIM, and play a song called "The Message." The
first verse began:
______
The fields are white and now the time has come
For there's a harvest, there is work left to be done ...
______
At that very moment, I happened to turn my head, and off the right
side of the road was a field full of white cotton waving in the
breeze. I got another kick out of that.
Okay, so I was out of jail and had my car back--but the fun wasn't
finished just yet.
I got to Atlanta, spent the night with my cousin and borrowed $40 for
gas to get me home. Somewhere between Nashville and northern
Tennessee, I lost $10 (probably shortchanged at a gas station, and
didn't realize it).
I ran out of money somewhere in northern Kentucky, and gas in central
Illinois. I had to go around to a Pizza Hut, then a Denny's, then
another restaurant, begging for a few bucks, to no avail. Then I went
into a truck stop and met a couple of black truckers, and gave them
my
hard-luck story. I just asked them for $5 or $6.
One of them looked at me and said, "You know, I'm gonna help you out.
You know why? You remind me of my little brother, that's why." And he
peeled off a crisp $20 bill and handed it to me. And that was more
than enough to get me home.
All in all, that trip was a ball. ;-) No shortage of synchronicity
there, either.
*****P*E*A*C*E**L*O*V*E**&**B*L*E*S*S*I*N*G*S*****
David H
Reliv is ROCKET FUEL for the huma
http://www.kundalini-gateway.org
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