Gregory Wesley Kerengton

He was bigger than the average person.  He was bigger than his brothers, who were big.  He was bigger than his father whom he inherited the bigness from.  He took up all the space and there was no room for anyone else by reason of himself.  It is funny how he did not know that as a child.  Growing up in a small project apartment, he found himself squeezed into places that never fit.  He slept in a bed that was too small.  He slept in a room that was too small.  He was served portions that was too small and was surrounded by friends, whose view, was too small.  How could he tell his beloved brother that there was more to life than becoming his father?  How could he tell Curry that life is more than meat and bread?  How could he tell Elvis, the only white boy on the block, that he was meant for more than serving beer in a pitcher and how could he tell Tionne that there was more to life than the Longview Projects.  He couldn't tell them, he could only express the nasty attitude that said, this life does not fit me.  It was like walking with shoes that pinch your toes in such a way that it caused you to snarl at the mailman.  No one ever thought that his salty silence or his wordless hellos were a sign that he was a great man pushed into an average man's life.  No one ever asked if one hotdog would fill him up.  No one wondered if he could lay in a bed without folding himself in half to fit it.  It was fine for them, but one day, he will go to Hess Park and stretch his full seven foot body in the grass and feel for a moment what it would be like to be comfortable in his own skin.  He would love it, relish it, search for it and never let it go again.  One day,  his world will fit.

Afraid

Last month, I had a very normal thing happen in my life.  I am now 44 and 44 brings with it it's own brand of health.  My bones crick.  My muscles ball up in a knot and I had a vitreous detachment in my eye.  It is harmless, but scary none the less.  My anxiety went through the roof.  I slept with the light on.  I cried like a spanked child.  I called on God.  My blood pressure went through the roof.  I felt like life was over.  Then I called on God again.  I realized that this was the price of living.  I drove anyway.  I eventually turned the light back off.  I learned to get a little more rest.  I started watching television.  I found a roommate and I started living again.  In the midst of it all, I realize that I was beginning to live my life afraid.  Afraid of the doctor.  Afraid of what they would say.  Afraid of what they would find.  Afraid to sleep alone.  I could not live life that way.  Somehow, I had to convince myself that the same God that kept me when I had nothing to worry about but the flu, was the same God that was going to keep me now.  He had not changed.  He was still there.  Despite the fact that I was feeling my age, God was still there being God.  He never left my side even though I had no clue what was going on.  God does not fade.  So I put my red lipstick back on and I started to live again.  I know that there are still some bumps in the road, but I don't have to be afraid.

Childlike

 

Matthew 18:2-4

² Jesus called a little child to him and put the child among them. ³ Then he said, “I tell you the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven. ⁴ So anyone who becomes as humble as this little child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.

I like kids.  They have a way of thinking that appeals to me.  They put their fallen teeth under the pillow with the full expectation that when they wake up in the morning, there will be a quarter there.  They leave out cookies and milk for Saint Nicholas.  You can’t convince them that Bunnies don’t lay pastel colored eggs.   I mean, you can talk until you are blue in the face and it won’t change what they believe.  Then magically one day, they grow up and feel the full weight of adult eyes.  They know that fallen teeth mean dentures, Saint Nicholas means a sale at Wal-Mart and the Easter Bunny is best served smothered with gravy.  We grow up to our adult realities, but that should not change how we believe in God.  You see, with God, you can still believe for the impossible because he has all power in his hands.  In Him, an old woman can still believe to bear children.  In Him, an old man can still take his mountain.  There is no such thing as being past your prime or being over the hill.  God still holds that magical quality where you life can get amazingly better than the day before.  Childlike faith is that kind of faith that only needs to know that Papa said he would do it.  That settles it.  Childlike belief doesn’t even need a word.  It is the belief that God’s character is sure and he may not do exactly what I was thinking, but he won’t do nothing.  He’s not a dead beat God.  In these regards, I am always amazed at how much relief I can find simply trusting him like I was that little seven year old putting her tooth under the pillow.  I can trust him like the little six year old girl who looked for four leaf clovers or the four year old child who was convinced that one day, I will find the end of the rainbow.