I’m tired after school. Not physically tired but time tired. I’ve spent all day talking to classmates. Listening to teachers, kinda. Bargaining with bullies. Walking home after school is usually blissless. You walk until you don’t have to walk anymore. I am at the age where I’m old enough to walk on my own but not old enough to drive or ride the school bus. We live too close to the school for me to ride the bus. My sister is still in elementary school so rides a bus home. I have never figured out anything to think about when walking home. This is the poor side of town. There are businesses and then there are empty lots with grass and trash. Its a world full of emptiness.
You pass all kinds of people walking on the side of the road. Bums who look at you like they lost something and they wonder if you have it. Other kids who are sticking together out of fear of being known. There are also gang members. I remember the first time I saw them. The sidewalk is not a sidewalk but just a side of the grass you walk on. There is nothing but a straight road so you can see down half a mile at least. Somehow I hadn’t noticed these three young black men until they were right in front of me. Fear is not the right word to describe how I felt. It was terror. They wore jerseys with multiple colors on them and really baggy pants that sagged down under their waist. They all had the same color patterns.
Looking the same has its benefits. For one it’s terrifying to an 11-year-old kid. Secondly, it makes you look like you are in the army. Masked green berets ready for their next deployment into Bosnia. Looking back it makes me sad for those guys. This was their life, they probably didn’t have jobs. The gang was their life and there was no escaping it. They walked past me and said, “you scared little man”. Obviously I looked like a trembling pipsqueak. Controlled by my fear of them passing me, not because they did anything to me but exist. I thought they would hurt me in some way but they just kept walking. As if my fear didn’t exist I kept walking home, tired.
My older brother and younger sister are both home already. They road buses from schools that were further away. Life is fair. I never wondered why I got the short end of the stick I was just glad I wasn’t the stick. It’s how I’ve always seen life. I never worried about how everyone else had something I didn’t have. I never thought about being what anyone else was unless i was in trouble. Walking home didn’t bother me. Being alone didn’t bother me. Almost having the local gang beat me up didn’t worry me. This was my life and I have never looked for anything. I have just accepted things are this way. Gangs are mean, I had to walk, Life is fair. Like i said I was tired. When my mom came in and said get ready to go to Wednesday church service I was still tired.
But that didn’t matter church was life. We went sun up or sundown. My earliest memories of life are being at church and not being at church. We were there a lot. So by the time I was 11yrs old and tired from a long day of stuff i had built up this immunity to complaining about going to church. The school wasn't debatable. My parents going to work wasn’t debatable. The church wasn’t debatable. Not that I would ever debate any of them. My parent’s work provided us with money for diner. School provided me with lunch. Church gave us a chance to see other people. We went to a church of over 500 people. With so many people it’s easy to get lost in the crowd. I knew most people because my dad was one of the pastors who served in the church.
Being a pastors kid is fun until you grow up. There is a spotlight on you that most kids can’t handle. From the church mothers who think you are more obedient than the other kids to church kids who know you’re probably the worst one who ever lived. It’s all a part of it. Your victories get sung the loudest and your dirt goes down the deepest. Not because you deserve it but because you are connected to someone who is loved by most people. I ignored it all. Not because I didn’t like it. I just didn’t notice most things growing up. Like I said I didn’t notice the gang walking until they were right in front of me on a flat sidewalk. I didn’t notice my desire to not go to church. I didn’t notice that I had to walk while my siblings road a bus. I generally didn’t notice most things in my life that happened around me. So when I tell you what I’m about to say you should know its a big deal.
As a kid, I daydreamed. On another level. After I watched a cartoon or tv show. I daydreamed myself into everything I saw. My teacher talked in school, I daydreamed. The preacher at church talked, I daydreamed. I have always been able to block out the world around me and focus on a thought. Very useful for mediation. Horrible for life. Most things in life are about listening. People succeed because they know how to listen. So I’m in church trying to save a galaxy somewhere else. I usually listen in the beginning and drown out the speaker with a vivid thought about a land far far away. Suddenly I hear a sound that's so loud it shakes me physically. It sounded like thunder. It was so loud I looked around the room to see if anyone else heard it and not one person was moving. They were all sitting there listening to the preacher. So I listened to what he said. He said, “the things you do today will affect your life tomorrow.”
My mind didn't fully understand the phrase but because of the thunder sound, I treat that phrase as gospel. I remember it to this day. It guides and reminds me to keep important things important. Every time I feel like giving up or letting go it pulls me back in line. The places you want to go to and the things you want to do with your life are not inconsequential. They are important. Every day is the most important day. Every step is the most important step. Every life is the most important life. Not because you are going to do something great but because you are meant to do something. What you do will affect tomorrow. Even if you do nothing. We affect tomorrow or die trying.
When I think about my life. Walking home alone, daydreaming constantly, and being at church too much. It all reminds me that God is using everything for my good. The good the bad the ugly. God uses all things for the good of those who love him. My part in all of this is not to make sense of it all but to love God through it all. I don’t need an answer for my past or a way to cope with what i didn’t experience as a kid. I focus on my love for God and people. I live and I affect things. Bring on tomorrow. It’s gonna change. It doesn’t have a choice but we always do. God bless and live well.
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