One man’s miracle…

One man’s miracle…

Some days when everything works against me it makes me smile. It sounds crazy I know.  It’s a recent alteration to the way I see the world.

One Friday afternoon, a  few years ago, I arrived back at the warehouse a bit later than usual. On the final leg of my journey I got stuck behind a chain of slow moving traffic. I cursed the farm tractor or whatever was causing the tailback but it didn’t improve things. I just had to ride it out like everybody else.

When eventually, I did get back to the warehouse my co-workers were long gone. On Fridays we usually knock off at 3pm, give or take  a few minutes. It was now 3:30.

I had to unlock the gates and open the large roller door, switch the lights on etc. More wasted time!

I reversed the truck inside the building, parked up, switched off the lighting, closed the roller door and made my way across the yard to my car. Mine was the only car left in the yard. The other workers were probably tucking into their dinners by now.

Just as I reached the car, a question occurred to me. Did I switch on the electric fork truck battery charger? It was my job to ensure the thing was charged up and ready for work on Monday morning.

So I went back. Opened the large roller door, lights on, checked on the fork truck and realised Yes I had put it on the charger after all. I can be forgetful at times but this was something I did only five minutes previous. Anyhow, Que Sera Sera. I lowered the roller door and made my way back to my car.

Like the previous time, just as I was about to get in the car, a little inner voice goes “Lights? Did you turn off the lights?” So I go back, open the roller door, only to discover I had left the lights on. Good thing I listened.

On my third attempt to get into my car, and go home, I heard another little noise. This noise was getting louder and louder, coming towards me. I turned around to see a forty foot Scania pulling into the yard. My fate was sealed. I knew what this meant. I would be very late home today. The driver climbed down and approached  me.

“Alright Mate,” in his English accent. “I have twenty-six pallets for you guys. I know I am late and I’m sorry. Would you be willing to fork them off for me?”

“Sure I will.” I answered. Because I’m a Yes man and that’s what Yes men do.

So, again,  I opened the roller door, switched the lights on, unplugged the fork truck and set to work unloading his truck.

When I was done it was close to 4:30. I started to sign the paperwork for the delivery. I was feeling a little bit sorry for myself until the driver made an odd statement.

“Thanks a lot mate. I’ll be able to catch the last ferry back to England this evening. If you hadn’t been here I would have had to park up until Monday.”

“Yep, it’s your lucky day!” I remarked as I signed my name on umpteen papers.

“The truth is, silly as this sounds, I prayed to God when I realised I would be late. I asked that he would work a small miracle for me. And believe me mate, I never pray. I owe him one for this.” He said.

 

On my drive home I realised something. That for every lucky break a person gets, the chances are that somebody else has to accept being second best. In a strange way, I felt special. My frustrating afternoon helped a miracle to happen for somebody.

One man’s miracle is another man’s cold dinner.

Thank you for reading,

Frankie.

In response to http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/26/prompt-que-sera-sera/

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Sacred Heart.

Sacred Heart.

Lanciano1

I will take a break from the silly stories for this evening’s post, if you don’t mind.

You are welcome to leave and read something else for whatever reason. But I have to get this out there, today, for some unknown reason. Maybe it will make sense to somebody.

Some of you will already know about my invisible friend, and how he teaches me things without having to put in an appearance. How he sets things up in order that I learn properly.

Today there have been too many prompts for me to ignore, and they are all begging me to tell this one story. Again, please leave if this story is not for you. I will have something light hearted tomorrow. Thank you.

About two years ago I was at Sunday Mass. I go there most, but not all Sundays. I’m only human. Like most Sundays I would daydream about this and that during the service. And to be totally honest some of my daydreams would shock even the author of Fifty Shades. I have normal daydreams also…sometimes.

On this particular Sunday my invisible friend whispered a question to me. It was so feint I thought I had come up with it myself.

Why do some people treat the wafer (host) at communion time as if it were the real thing? Surely this Body and Blood ritual has been misrepresented somewhere in the past two thousand years.

I pondered it again the very next day, driving in my truck. I wasn’t losing my religion but as usual I was questioning things like crazy. My mind is never on the road. It’s always elsewhere. Trucking is a great job for any budding philosopher. Lots of thinking time. Up here, in the cab, above the hustle and bustle. We see it all, us truckers. I can see Scotland on a clear day!

I listen to political chat shows although you would be forgiven for thinking otherwise.

So this day (the day after the question) the radio host took a break from the usual. He had a guest on who was talking about Padré Pio, a famous stigmatic. Incidentally there are a few alive in the world today. My aunt met one a few years back. He was also a monk.

Anyway, in the course of the conversation somebody mentions an event called The miracle of Lanciano.

In all my forty years I had never heard of this. In fact very few people get to hear about it. It’s one of those things you won’t see on telly. Because it is the polar opposite of the aim of television. I am not saying all telly is bad. But he who pays the piper calls the tune. That’s all I’m saying.

Getting back to the radio. The person told of a priest years ago in a town in Italy. He was saying Mass. At the consecration when he was holding the wafer aloft and saying the same old words, something happened. He started to doubt!

He doubted that the wafer was really the Body of Christ. He doubted that the Wine was really the Blood.

Instantly the wafer started to bleed, real blood. He dropped it onto the altar in shock. Members of the congregation ran to the altar thinking he had hurt himself. What they all witnessed was the wafer turning into a piece of flesh and the wine in the chalice turning to blood.

Samples were tested and found to be the same blood as the Turin shroud.

A scientist was given a sample of the flesh. He was told nothing of its history. He concluded that it was from the left ventricle of a human heart and that the person suffered a traumatic death.

There have been other identical miracles down through the years and in all corners of the globe. Buenos Aires, Poland, China, Japan…

I have included two videos below. But you can go and search the web yourself.

I am not a scientist. I am a trucker. All I know is that the question never entered my mind for all my forty years, until one day, and the very next day I got my answer.

I hope you get all your questions answered. There can be a time delay with the answer. But just like the old internet connections, spiritual connections are improving all the time it seems.

 

If this message has no meaning to you. Don’t even give it a second thought. Pass on by.

I’m still the same blogger.

Thank you for reading,

Frankie.

In response to http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/22/prompt-young/

Here are two samples you won’t find on telly.

There are better quality videos of this scientist on youtube. This is only a snippet.  He was an athiest writing a book about athteism when he realised the truth.