佚名 /Anonymous
April days in Portland, Oregon, can convince you that winter will never end. A gray sky of drizzle after two weeks of downpours and puddles in the parking lots wouldn't give way. Looking at the city through the trees, I sat at my desk feeling a little sorry for myself. It seemed like I'd been giving out so much for so long. Juggling the multiple priorities most professional women do, I felt tired and discouraged.
I noticed the clutter on my desk: clean-up from a business trip piled high, stacks of articles, projects that needed attention, and an overwhelming list of phone mail messages. Slumping in my chair, chin in hands, I wondered what all this was worth.
The physical, emotional, and spiritual energy required in a f ield that called upon my professional singing, speaking, and consulting talents was exhausting. Giving out to others in an effort to make a difference had taken its toll. I wondered. Does any of this really matter? Am I making any kind of contribution?
Morosely, I was plotting the career change I would inevitably need to make when the phone rang. The ring startled me from my brooding. A lyrical male voice, obviously Southern, said, “Hi, I'm Dan, and I'm calling from Texas. You don't know me, but I heard you sing in Japan.”
Japan! That was years ago. It seemed like another lifetime. “Well,” he continued, “I f igured I needed to call you, because your music made a real impact on my life, and I f igured you don't always get to know. I heard you sing at that school for missionary kids in Tokyo. During your concert, I was so moved, I knew then and there I needed to change direction. After your concert, I started studying my music so I could go into the ministry myself and touch others the way you touched me. I'm calling you because I just graduated from college this week and will be moving ahead with my dream.”
“How in the world did you ever f ind my number?” I asked, fairly stunned at these revelations from this friendly stranger on the end of the line. “Oh, I called around till I found it,” he said. “Somehow, to call you right now felt real important.” Real important! Little did he know!