The Power of Influence

As 2013 drew to a close, I was doing some thinking around the power of influence.

In the thousands of words surrounding the passing of Nelson Mandela the nature, breadth and significance of his influence kept coming up.

It’s ironic that those who banned his name from being mentioned in the media and imprisoned him for almost three decades achieved the opposite of their design. The stripped him of his name and gave him a number. But that very act added greater value to his name. His eventual release from prison was a landmark moment in the unfolding story of South Africa. The rainbow nation was born against seemingly impossible odds.

We may never be able to match the scale of the impact of Mandela’s life but we shouldn’t be blind to the power of influence we all carry. A few days ago a young student talked of abiding influence of his grandad. He died when the lad was just twelve and a decade or more on, the impact of his life is stronger than ever. As a teacher, he chose to move abroad for his final years of activity, and to invest in a new generation in the developing world. He returned to the UK and after a few short years he contracted cancer and died.

The impact of a self-sacrificing choice lives on and his grandson has set out on that same road less traveled. Yet another example of someone who still speaks even though he is dead.

So here is a question at the start of a new year: what whispers of Grace can we bring that will linger longer?

Whispers of Grace

With a tremor of its wafer wing,

They say, a butterfly in Bejiing

Can, in time, spin a tornado

across the Kansas plain.

Or hurl a tidal wave booming

into Carolina’s tranquil bays.

So, what then of a kiss for the dying,

An embrace for the untouched.

Or a tenderness to the crushed?

What of a whisper of grace,

A word of love unfurled,

Or a door to truth flung wide?

Will not these unwind the twisted heart

And still the waves of endless whys?

Is this not the fountain spray

That soars through time

And splashes eternity

in our eyes?    – Mark Greene