So my dad and brother are cleaning out the garage, and came across a box of "mementos" from the old days. I assume the movers found a drawer with an unclassifiable assortment of junk, wrapped it in paper as best as they could, and boxed it up, because there is the most RANDOM stuff imaginable inside.
Among these treasures are:
1) my binder from 6th grade English. It took me awhile to decipher the nonsensical, drama-filled scribblings, but of course I had to try - the vows of undying affection to various nicknames are PRICELESS. Not to mention everyone's horrendous grammar...oh, the irony.
2) a few torn-out journal entries that CRACK ME UP. Stream of consciousness, anyone? My favorite and the longest begins with "my life is complicated. i'm only 14 and i could write a book."
3) a broken clay figure from art class that looks as though its state of "some assembly required" is intentional...but no, I just didn't fasten the limbs well enough.
4) a smudged and burned Blind Guardian CD *and* a shiny WOW CD in its case. Ah, the music of a Denbigh childhood.
5) the comic book (errr, binder?) that I wrote in 4th grade. Although it does make me laugh, it's not at all comical...I cringe horribly every time I open it.
6) my old Busch pass! Oh, the memories...:)
7. my old red & black Converse high-tops, complete w/ little Sharpie hearts and stars on the toes. I'm actually kind of excited about this one; I had wondered where they had disappeared to.
Ladies and gentlemen, my childhood - or rather, my junior high and freshman years. It's kinda funny looking back at what defines a person in their most vulnerable (not to mention hormonal) times. It's also crazy how much about those years I had blocked out from my memory...but looking back, that was actually probably the most favorable course of action at the time. There was so much emotion and confusion, I'm surprised I didn't have a meltdown (although I'm sure I had my fair share of those, come to think of it). A part of me wants to be cheesy and say that if only I had known then what I know now, life would have been so much different/better/easier. But I also know that without those feelings of hurt and resentment, the fears of neglect and nonacceptance, and the confusion that surrounded it all, I wouldn't have sought so desperately for an answer.
Think about your middle school/junior high days. Wasn't it then that you were either willing to feel the Spirit with your whole heart, or truly felt the darkness of a world without Him? I find that middle schoolers are so much more in tune with their emotions that they run wholeheartedly to whatever fulfills them - they tend to be extreme one way or the other. Granted, that can lead to terribly tragedy...but I'm also thinking of Acquire the Fire, where I encountered God being there for ME and loving ME for the first time. Insufficient, downtrodden, misunderstood me. See, it's much easier to recognize one's depravity at that age - usually the pride hasn't quite kicked in yet. We already knew how awful we were, we just needed someone to love us.
I didn't experience a lot of closeness with God in those years, but when I did, it was absolutely unforgettable. That wholeheartedness, that inner rebellion against apathy (note: INNER...a 7th grader would often like nothing more than for you to believe he's rebelling by BEING apathetic) is wonderfully refreshing, and leads to a fantastic opportunity for ministry.
I guess what I'm saying is that the more I let myself remember and relive those times, the more God seems to be putting that age group on my heart. I don't know what that'll look like yet, but I've started thinking and praying about whether my major should change, what classes I should look into, etc. It's really caused me to examine both my memories and myself.
It's amazing what God can do with a cardboard box of addled memories.
No comments:
Post a Comment