My father was a pastor/evangelist. We basically lived in the church. My love for the Lord was exciting and alive! Through the years, growing up and experiencing many wounds within the body of Christ, I became the proverbial ‘prodigal daughter.’ One day, many years later, when my dad was visiting me, he took some coins out of his pocket and in the middle of it was a red marble. I commented, “Dad, why do you have that red marble in your pocket?” He picked it up, held it up to the light, and at that moment the red marble seemed to glow. He replied, “I carry this red marble in my pocket as a reminder.” I replied, what? He looked deeply into my eyes and began to speak, “as a reminder of the last drop of blood that my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ shed for me on the cross. Here, I want you to have it, so that you too will have a reminder of the Calvary”.
I still remember how those words stung my heart, because I was away from the Lord and I wasn’t ready to give up. Years later, however, I repented and returned home to my Heavenly Father, and many years later my Father went home to be with his Heavenly Father. At my dad’s funeral, people from all over were coming up to me with their red marbles, some made into earrings, some into pendants, and some into tie clips, some just mixed up in their change. They all told the same story, your Father gave me this red marble and through it I gave my heart and life to Jesus Christ. In his records was found a list of all the red marbles he had bought and given away; totaled 10,000. A glass bowl was next to his coffin filled with red marbles and everyone was invited to drink freely. As I said goodbye to my earthly Father, my Heavenly Father spoke to my heart. He said, “Your daddy could not leave you an earthly inheritance, but what money left you cannot buy. He left you an eternal inheritance. He left you the legacy of the red marble.”
Lots of people had stories to tell about my dad and his red marbles. A few months after Dad’s death, I received a letter from my niece, his granddaughter. She was in college and she went like this…”Here’s a copy of a poem I wrote about Grandpa McDonald right after he died. I wrote this for English class. The teacher chose it to be published in a literary magazine in college. I thought you’d want a copy.
RED MARBLE
Written by Faith McDonald
They were supposed to remind us to pray for him.
Don’t forget about grandpa. Small talk says that he loves you.
Finding one while searching for a lost gem reminds you of your time.
Thousands had them, but none like mine.
Straight from the hands of the man she loved so much.
The distance between us made us forget.
He always expressed his love for me.
My sadness soon followed regret over the lost contact.
“Pray for me” ended the call.
Hanging up triggered memories we had.
Suddenly sick. Faster and faster.
Came the day. The call came. He loved so much.
Beautiful views, loved ones and good health await you.