The divine is never found where or how you expect. The Holy Spirit tosses small seemingly meaningless breadcrumbs along the path of a seeker. They are so easy to miss in a harried, made for Instagram life. The breadcrumbs are on your path. They lead to divine appointments.
I had a divine appointment recently after following a trail of breadcrumbs.
It began with forwarded emails by my dad from someone I’d never heard of. One day something caught my eye. I read and found a beautiful poem. I replied to the writer offering my praise.
An email conversation ensued with this stranger.
Eventually, I learned that this writer was a 99-year-old man living in my hometown. A requested visit was granted. I met a spry, clear-eyed fellow that could not have been a day over 79 in my estimation.
I became one of Melvin C. Young’s thousands of friends. Even more importantly, he chose me to be the editor of his writings and first book.
We planned the release of his best work to coincide with his Jubilee Celebration in July 2017.
The book proof reached Mel the day before he was taken to the Baptist Hospital emergency room. While waiting, he read and approved the entire book. Two days later, I got to sit with him and two of his sons in the hospital before they moved him to Hospice of Davidson County.
Mel spoke that night with purpose and clarity, like a man about to leave for a long journey. He gave instructions and assurances. An energy filled the room. Others, unseen, joined us to bear witness.
I could almost see a chariot of fire, led by two anxious white horses, driven by heavenly hosts, awaiting the appointed time. Then I heard a growing murmur and bustle. A great multitude excitedly prepared for a celebration. One of the giants was soon coming home. Among them Mel’s dear wife Martha, his daughter, parents and grandparents, colleagues, Sunday School students, Lion’s Club beneficiaries, and oh forty-seven years of Boy Scouts and their parents and children and friends and friends of friends.
Thousands upon thousands filled the bejeweled streets in anticipation.
Mel Young’s simple but faithful life touched many, and then those people went on and touched more. You see the faithful on earth have no way of measuring the multiplier effect their acts of kindness, compassion, honesty, and sharing have on heaven’s bounty.
Mel Young stored up a fortune in heaven. He’s enjoying the fruits of his labor now. He’s met the one in whom he placed all his trust through thick and thin. I just know he’s so glad now, so thankful that he didn’t give up. All the pain is forgotten now.
I am so thankful that God answered my prayer for a return of hope by way of Mel Young, even if it was only a short time here that I got to know him. When the time comes, I’ll find him sitting on a front porch with time to tell me a story and share a slice of watermelon.
Melvin C. Young
July 16 1917 – May 22, 2017
Mel’s book, The First One Hundred Years: Poems, Prose, and Praise, is available here.
