David's Pen

  John’s brain was revving more than the car, which had stalled and come to a halt in the middle of the road. He rationalised: The Holy Spirit, is a, well, a spirit – not a middle-aged man in T shirt and jeans sitting next to you in your car. And yet he was fairly sure he hadn’t given anyone a lift, the car had been empty, other than him, when he had started. True, he had been in a tearing hurry, but a stranger getting into the car next to you is something you’d surely notice. He began to sweat – maybe the pressure he was under had finally made him crack. There wasn’t really a man impossibly in the car next to him, it was a trick of a disturbed mind, the lack of sleep, the slight hangover, the pressure of the interview… The stranger shook his head: “No, you’re not cracking up – well, no more than normal.” Then with another chuckle, “But I love the fact that you’re so surprised by an answered prayer that you’re more ready to believe in your own insanity than that it has been ans...

  John was running late. Again. He was so late that he was regretting squeezing in his quiet time before leaving.   He was caught up in the school run traffic and unless he got a parking place near the office, he’d be late. And not just for the start of work, but for the interview that so much rested on. He knew deep down that it was his own fault, but that was just adding to the angst. He decided to pray as he drove, briefly closing his eyes and putting his hands together before remembering that he was driving. He opened his eyes and put his hands back on the wheel, hoping that God would overlook the non-standard prayer posture. He wanted to do it right in order to make it more likely that his prayer would be answered, even whilst recognising this sounded a lot like superstition. Distracted, he began: “O Lord, maker of heaven and earth, sovereign Lord, the one who…” he interrupted his own prayer, realising that time was of the essence, “Actually, what I really need right ...