How much time have you got, and if I make it plain and clear would it make ANY difference to your life choices and actions from now on?!
Suffice to say that there have been many instances when 'notions' have occurred to me that I would NEVER have imagined, and the results have been more than spectacularly good.
Let me tell you about bumping into Danny Guilbeau again. This will get long, and I don't expect you to grasp it...and you will make excuses until the cows come home as to how it was all co-incidence.
I had a friend back during my UofM-Dearborn days, we were all involved with the campus radio station. He had just gotten out of rehab for alcohol troubles, and had a birthday party without any drinking. I met Danny there, who was a troubled youth from Brightmoor...and for some reason I felt obliged to show him that he could live and have a fun life without the gang activity and heavy destructive partying that led him to incarceration and the same rehab house my old friend had just been through.
So, I took him as an unofficial little brother, going to movies and other suburban stuff and just having innocent fun. This went on for a few months, but then abruptly stopped. I couldn't even remember why.
Many months later, after I had gone through what the world would call a born-again experience, I was driving down the Southfield Expressway when I got this distinct notion or inner urge to exit and seek out this young fellow again. I begged off, saying I had some banking to do at my credit union, and if I had time...I'd catch him on the way back.
Well, on the way back...that feeling was SO strong, I could not ignore it. It was baffling to me, I certainly did not WANT to go miles out of my way for a blind hunt...I was nearly sure I wouldn't recognize his mother's house anyways, and Brightmoor before the time of the first Gulf War was not an easy place to cruise and look around.
But I went...driving down the street that I remembered because of the old Dairy Queen on the corner. I couldn't remember which was his mother's house, but saw his grandmother's because of the physics-defying single-post handrail on her front porch. I parked and went to the door...knocked and the dog went wild.
No answer! I ran back to my car, relieved that I had followed this odd leading...yet I was nagged by my conscience. I had come this far, and knew somehow that I was supposed to contact him...so I wrote out a note and left it in the mailbox.
The next morning, I was late...as usual...to get to my job at the Gramophone, but the phone rang just as I was rushing out the door. It was Danny. He proceeded to ask me twenty questions.
Was I the same John Gannon who had taken him to the mall and hung out and talked about deep subjects...and so on. He clearly didn't think it was me.
After watching the clock spin, and imagining my manager's thrashings about with another tardiness...I said, "It's ME, Danny! Why are you so doubtful?"
I will never forget his answer.
"Because someone with your name left a note at my grandma's house. She just called me, right when I had my shotgun in my mouth ready to blow my head off...but when she read the note and got to the end, I had to find out if it was really you."
My last line read, "Because I want to know why God has him on my heart so heavily today".
Apparently, and this is the part that amazes ME, he had all but chased me around my father's basement after his 'dawning', and I kicked him out for attempting to force religion on me.
Something had obviously changed in the short time between then and that phone call.
There is more to the story, including restoration beyond belief which can ONLY be called miraculous...but I won't trouble you with that now, this will be enough for your critical mind to reach, let alone grasp.
Sincerely,
John
There is more to life than we know. WAY more than we perceive.
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