Marshall Ramsey

It was a cool, late winter’s day. The man paused as he caught his breath. Propping against his shovel, he looked around at what he was building. The muddy water surrounding his waders revealed his progress.

Brick by brick he constructed it. Each block represented an aspect of his life: Friends. Family. Health. Career. He stacked them up on each other one by one.  He paused again. A storm would come — He knew that.  This was his seawall. This was what would protect all that was dear to him.  He knew that, too.

Another concrete block and then cement.  But instead of just blocks, he used steel, rebar as they called it. He ran it in between the holes in the block.  The steel and the concrete he poured around it was his faith. He stopped for a moment, rested and smiled. When he was a younger man, he had built a seawall without the rebar. Youth’s folly, he had called it.  It had crumbled the first time it had been tested.

He listened as the sound of the water lapped gently against the shoreline.  A hawk glided gently overhead. It was so peaceful. So calm. But he knew what was coming.  He knew a storm was on the way.

Another row of blocks. More concrete. More steel.

Individually all these parts of his life would have failed when assaulted. But together, he had a strong line of protection.  His seawall would take some serious punishment.  He knew it was strong.

He put the shovel down on the shore and admired his work. This wasn’t an overnight job. Building something like this took time.  A lifetime, he thought. And it took effort. He thought of the Three Little Pigs. No house of straw for him. The thought of a straw seawall made him laugh. “Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin.”  The wolf was coming. He’d be ready for him.

He put the cold glass of unsweet tea to his lips and felt the refreshing drink cool his dry throat like cold water on a hot beach.  Now he could build his life with confidence.  And build it, he did.

A few years later, that storm did come. The once peaceful body of water rose and battered the seawall. Wave after wave after wave blasted the blocks. The pounding took its toll on each one of them. His family felt the pain. His health and career did, too.  The howling wind and the force of the water chipped away at them all.  Everything he stood for was at risk.  The storm was unrelenting. A weaker wall would have collapsed.

But his held strong. The seawall took the punishment the storm threw at it. And by dawn’s early light, it was still there. The rebar and the concrete held the wall intact.  His faith kept everything together.  The storm relented, the sky began to clear and the water receded.

He inspected the damage. A few blocks were chipped and had to be replaced. He got new career. He repaired his family.  He strengthened his health.  He thanked his friends.

Because he knew another storm would come.  And when it did, his seawall would be ready.

The airline’s polished aluminum skin glimmered in the late-afternoon sunlight. The tall little boy stood on the hill, watching the man-made bird soar across the sky.  People were on that plane. People traveling to new, exotic places. People who were going back home.  He followed the contrails with his finger all the way to the horizon. That’s where he wanted to be. He wanted to be somewhere other than where he was right at that moment.

Growing up poor and without opportunities seemed to be fine with his classmates. Most would drop out of school early anyway, maybe even getting a job at the remaining factory in the county. But dropping out meant they were deprived of the eye-opening experience of the gift of education. Yes, it was a gift, he thought. He felt like that the day he read his first book — it opened his heart, eyes and mind like a package on Christmas.  It showed him what was possible for him. He smell greatness in that book’s musty pages. He traveled around the world in his mind.  Yes, it that was a gift.

The plane continued to lumber on with its journey. While it was traveling at nearly 600 mph, to the people on the ground, it was just crawling. It had a lot of sky to cover before it would be gone. Just like the little boy did.

His mother and father worked three jobs between the two of them. He was the oldest of three kids and most of the time, he was the one in charge of this younger brother and sister. The little boy had grown up way too fast. Although he was 12, he had the soul of a 40-year-old.  Life wasn’t easy for him. But he didn’t complain.  He knew that one day he would leave this all behind. He was just biding his time.

The rich soil beneath his feet grew mighty crops. And there was no greater crop than the talent he possessed. He was 12. He knew he’d be a writer.  And like the other legendary writers who came from his state of Mississippi, he had stories to tell.  The soil gave him the talent. And his state gave him stories. He was an observer. And had so much to observe.

A few months back, a fancy Mercedes broke down while traveling through the town on his way to Arkansas.  In it was a best-selling legal thriller author.  The writer had graciously visited with him while the car was in his Dad’s car garage.  Dreams are born in strange places sometimes.  Deltaville Auto Repair launched one of the mightiest writing careers of all time.

The plane was now 3/4 across the sky.  The little boy took out his notebook and began telling a story about a little boy, a dream and an airplane.  It would eventually turn into his first NY Times Best-selling novel. There would be 20 more to follow.

God gives you ideas in unexpected places in unexpected ways.  A flash of sunlight on the plane planted a seed in a little boy’s mind. He knew he’d someday make it as a writer.  He knew that he would someday be crossing the  horizon. Just like the passengers on that plane.