Mama, did we ever finish talking about
That memory I have where you told me on the way to Walmart about a woman God wanted you to pray for;
And the woman had told you she needed prayer right at the moment when God told you to reach out to her (the moment you did reach out to her);
Well, remember how that memory
Was in my mind, and I nodded along as you told the story to dad, several weeks
(A long time) after you had told it to me.
And how I knew what you would say, before you said it, because it was a story I knew? You had already told it to me? I remembered it from that trip to Walmart?
But then I brought it up, I said
“Yeah, I remember you telling me about this; it was that one missionary from Ireland, right?”
And you looked at me strangely and
Because you had just spoken to this woman
This story had just happened
I could not have known it
But I did. I knew. I remembered
Clearly the entire thing;
You told me it as we drove to Wal-Mart.
But you insisted you had just spoken to her
This had just taken place;
you’d messaged her; this conversation was dated today!
My memory was in the wrong time frame.
And we drifted off somehow
Forgot to keep talking about it
And now I wonder
If I experienced some intense form of déjà vu that
Inserts a memory into your mind, very specific, very neat, very certain even after that moment has passed, with surroundings and clarity;
Or if God told me what would happen
Before it did.