Just Me, Nothing More

English: The Woodside Hotel and the big tree

He is behind the tree, that big one over on Clark Street, the one that has a zillion leaves flowing from each tiny branch, yes that is the one, you remember. He is standing underneath of it, hiding in the flowing shadows.

He is waiting for just one to walk by. The one who has no confidence, the one who walks this earth afraid to step forward. Have you seen him or her? Do you recognize the person that I am talking about? No, yes? Well he knows, he always knows.

His nose picks out the sense of fear, scared, weak, shy. Yes, he is waiting to pounce, to take what little you have left. Your entire life having fought to be the one that you were meant to be, but have not been able to have enough belief or strength in yourself to get to the point, that HE will not be hiding behind the shadows, ready to jump out at you, and scare you to death.

Did someone ever tell you that you were dumb, stupid, worthless, or unwanted? Did that one superior ever thump you on the head, knock you off of your feet, break a tooth out?

Did you ever sit in your bedroom on your bed, in the dark hours, and cry yourself to sleep, until morning finally broke through your windows, letting you know that this is a new day, that today you can have new hope?

Did you ever try your hardest to be picked, to be chosen, to have your name called in a school game out on the play ground, but no matter how you smiled, or begged, or kept still, your name was always called last? Did you ever wish that you belonged to that certain group, wore those clothes with the expensive name tag on the back, have those shoes with the familiar name on the side?

When we are children, we are innocent, and believe that everyone loves us, that we are precious to family, and when we go to school, we begin to see the differences between us and them? You begin to notice their style, their laughter, their popularity.

When you become a teenager, you have even more problems with fitting in. You discover that your friends have girlfriends or boyfriends, and you still have no one. The school dance comes around, and you have no one to ask.

It can be a rough life to live as an adult, and we carry with us many of the hurtful things that were said or done to us from our youth and childhood. Some of us have families or people who have spent time with us and have helped us get over the hump of youth to adulthood, and others have fallen by the tracks, seeming hard to stand, only able to still crawl.

We all need a helping hand, someone who loves us for who we are, not what we wear, not how many friends we have, or who we are married to. We need to know that each of us is worthy of obtaining anything in this world that we so desire.

Thank goodness there is God, a superior who loves us in spite of all of our sins. I know that there are a lot of people in the world who do not believe in God, and this is sad to me, but I can not live those lives, but I can pray for lost life, that the soul will turn one day to the warmth of God and reach up to the hands that are so patiently waiting for them.

Remember the big tree over on Clark Street, the many leaves that form dark shadows in the night? A place where evil and bad things are waiting for someone to come by, so that he can reach out and snatch that soul? His nose can sense all weakness in the world.

I am not trying to preach, and I am not trying to place fear in anyone. I just want to give food for thought here. I have been on that sidewalk, edging closer to where he is standing, but God reached out and grabbed me, and placed me on another side walk, closer to home, keeping me safe with his love. I am so thankful that I have been lifted by the hands of a power, much greater than even what I think I have. I am a common soul, nothing special, not rich, don’t live in a fancy home, don’t have name brand clothes, but I am blessed, truly blessed.

The Road Not Taken

Robert Frost, "The Road Not Taken", ...

Robert Frost, “The Road Not Taken”, 1874 – 1963 (Photo credit: Tony Fischer Photography)

Help me, help me. Robert reached out his hand to each one who walked by. One person stopped, and threw him a five, and along with this offered him some advice, get a job, loser. Robert hurriedly grabbed the money and stuffed it in his shirt pocket, making sure that no other would get to it first.

Robert had been a success in his own eyes. He had started out with nothing, and was taught , that if you want something, you work for it. He had been raised by his aunt and uncle from the time he was a young teen. They had taken him in out of pity. Robert’s parents had been in an auto accident, and both had been killed. Robert had been raised in a country setting,  his parents poor, but proud. They lived off of the land, and were also God-fearing people.

After the accident, Robert was moved into the city, and had no idea on how to interact with city kids. He felt lost most of the time, only making one  friend in his new school. The new kid, Ryan, took Robert under his wing and showed him how to become a leader. Ryan would constantly teach Robert, that you had to do what you could, push others out-of-the-way in order to get to the top. The goal, to be worshiped and admired, to have envy from others of what you owned, which was power.

Robert’s aunt and uncle didn’t have much money, but the little that was left to take care of Robert, was enough for them to take him in. They let him live his own life, not getting involved with the finishing of raising him. Their  interest lie more with the check that they received at the beginning of the month for Robert’s care.

Robert and Ryan were like teacher and student. Ryan showed him the ropes. He taught him  selfishness  was the way to gain power. Many times Robert left his mark behind, as he robbed houses, and broke into businesses. The mark he left was in sorrow and sadness as people and businesses tried to move on with their lives from the damages  he had caused.

It wasn’t long after Robert graduated that he had accumulated a small gathering, a following of men who wanted to be just like him. Robert had eyes for the ladies also. There was one in particular, that had the face of his mother. She, didn’t want anything to do with him at first, but he didn’t give up. He kept finding her out, learned where she lived, and where she worked. He had to make her his. Each time they talked, something would soften inside of him, and eventually, Lorna, did get to know the person that he showed her.

Less than six months later he married Lorna, and he kept  her safe at home while he went out and did his work. He loved her, he was putty in her hands, but he had a reputation to keep, and he had jobs to perform, and so his secret life was kept hidden from her.

The monies were flowing in regularly now. He had people who watched his back and people that he could trust. His leadership was no secret on the streets. Drugs were his main income. Purchasing and selling. He didn’t rob homes or businesses any longer, as they didn’t prove enough income for him.

Soon he had enough money to move Lorna away from the city. He purchased a home, hidden by trees, that lined a long path to the house. He moved Lorna and their new baby boy to the country. This gave him comfort as he knew that she would always be out of harm’s way.

Lorna knew that he had another side to him, but she didn’t know what it involved. She took care of the house and their new son, and spent many hours in prayer, praying for her husband to see the light of God, and to give up what she knew was bad for him. When Robert walked through their door, she could see a rough exterior, but with her gentle personality and her love for him, he would relax, show her he loved her, and hold his son.

One day, during business, a client had not paid on time as he should have. Robert sent his partners to the client’s house to get him to pay up. The client, knowing how Robert was, and fearing for his own life, was prepared to fight. When Robert’s thugs knocked on the door, no one answered. They were standing in silence, waiting for the door to bust open. When the door was forced open, the shots were heard. Firing rounds until all that been moving were now lifeless.

These clients wanted Robert off of the streets and out of their lives.They wanted a chance to be in charge, so they left the lifeless in the house and made their way to where Robert and his family lived. They barged in and took over the house, taking all that Robert had including his family, then after cleaning house, they started the house on fire. It was a tragedy. It made the head lines that very night.

Robert ended up being alone. His partners in crime had deserted him out of fear. He had lost his beloved wife and baby boy. His power was gone. All he had left was this tiny office that he held meetings in. He got his liquor bottle out of his desk drawer, and began to drink himself to death, but death didn’t win. Sometime, the next day, he ventured out into the daylight. He was headed out to see what remained of his house. When he reached his car, three thugs were waiting for him. They didn’t want to kill him, they wanted him to suffer. They shot him in the legs and arms, then they fled, leaving him there to bleed. A passer-by came  near and saw that he needed help, and called 911. Robert was taken to the hospital and survived his gun shots, but the shots had left him disabled.

When Robert was released a few weeks later, no one was there to offer him a ride or a place to stay. He was alone and found himself on the streets. He had lost everything due to his selfish greed and the wants for power. He made his way onto the sidewalk and walked, heading toward his office, when he collapsed. He was still weak from his injuries. He laid there on the sidewalk, and the tears started to fall. He knew he had messed up good. He knew that he had lost everything that ever mattered to him. He realized that he needed help. He reached up his hands as strangers passed by, asking for help. One passer-by threw him a five, and off him some advice, hey bud, get a job loser.

The Dark Intruder

Today. A day to be forgotten. A day of hell. It was here, all around. I couldn’t catch it, I couldn’t beat it, I could not even scream, yell, or swear at it. It filled the house with its presence, taking a hold of my mind, and trying its best to make me crazy. I found myself, covering my ears tightly, not wanting to listen anymore. I found myself weak physically.  I wanted to cover my eyes, and pretend it wasn’t there. I went to the bathroom, my haven, where no one can reach me. It followed me. I went and poured myself a cup of coffee, but it remained. The day continued on, not getting better but worse. For a short time, I stole silence. I surrounded it around me like a freezing child wraps himself in a blanket. I dove in the middle of it and sucked the life out of it, smiling to myself, as I knew I was taking all that I could. I took a moment, tuning every noise, into silence. I rested. I prayed. I felt better, but then I awoke out of my deep thoughts to it. Once again I prepared myself for battle. I felt guilt. I had just sat there and prayed to Jesus, and yet here I was, standing in preparation for war. I felt Jesus coming through me once again. Patience, and soft words came out of my mouth, as I tried to explain the many questions being thrown my way. I found myself smiling as I looked at him and saw the innocent face, and the pleading to understand. It was like looking at a man-child. I looked over my brother’s shoulder, and saw God standing tall, with full armor in tact. I knew at that moment, I was not alone. We were going to fight this dementia together.