On Thursday, my mom reminded me that my Grandma's 60 year high school reunion events would start on Sunday and I'd agreed to attend that day's activities with her. First, 60 years? Can you imagine going to your 60 year reunion. I've gotta give props to my Grandma because she still looks incredible.
On with the story...I HATE doing stuff on Sundays. I usually go to my church's early service because I like spending Sunday afternoons vegging out on the couch catching up on tv shows that I missed during the week. I like being able to mentally prepare myself for the coming work week. So, needless to say, when my mom reminded me that I was Grandma's escort, I complained and whined about it, just like a spoiled brat.
The class decided to kick off the week's events with a worship service at one of the members' church in Baltimore. So, we picked up my Grandma and let her direct us to the church, since we didn't have the details. As we proceeded to drive through the city, her directions brought us through several neighborhoods that could easily be site locations for The Wire. We drove around looking for the church, meanwhile, I'm praying that the drug dealers still have that law where they don't shoot people on Sundays. As we get closer, I realize that the church we're going to is the same church that I worked in when I was about 14 or 15. I was a summer camp counselor there. So, in the midst of being concerned about getting hit by a stray bullet, I was a little excited about visiting the site of one of my first jobs.
I've been working since I was 13. Baltimore had (and may still have) this program that gave jobs to needy inner city kids. My first job was cleaning up debris (no - a better word would be trash) along the Chesapeake Bay. Every day I went out there in the hot summer sun in a hard hat and construction boots to pick up the garbage that other people left. While my current position is a long way from that first job, I think back to those times often.
So, here I am sitting in the pew (yes - I take my notepad everywhere), listening to the youth choir sing the song 'Grateful'
and I can't help but think about how blessed my life has been. Then, my eyes get a little misted. Even when I was out there doing a job that nobody else wanted to do, I never stopped dreaming about how I wanted my life to turn out. Over the years, I've worked very hard to achieve those dreams. I became the first in my family to go to college (with honors), the first to get a graduate degree and the first to start climbing the corporate ladder. And, I had incredible setbacks. Events that nearly crippled me. But, in the same way that I didn't climb the ladder without HIS help, when life kicked me in the neck with steel toe boots, HE was there to break my fall.
So, when I hear that 'Grateful' song. I can't help but be overcome. HE literally brought me through The Wire and I'm soo grateful! I'm glad I got over myself and attended the service with my Grandma.
Amen
Holla
On with the story...I HATE doing stuff on Sundays. I usually go to my church's early service because I like spending Sunday afternoons vegging out on the couch catching up on tv shows that I missed during the week. I like being able to mentally prepare myself for the coming work week. So, needless to say, when my mom reminded me that I was Grandma's escort, I complained and whined about it, just like a spoiled brat.
The class decided to kick off the week's events with a worship service at one of the members' church in Baltimore. So, we picked up my Grandma and let her direct us to the church, since we didn't have the details. As we proceeded to drive through the city, her directions brought us through several neighborhoods that could easily be site locations for The Wire. We drove around looking for the church, meanwhile, I'm praying that the drug dealers still have that law where they don't shoot people on Sundays. As we get closer, I realize that the church we're going to is the same church that I worked in when I was about 14 or 15. I was a summer camp counselor there. So, in the midst of being concerned about getting hit by a stray bullet, I was a little excited about visiting the site of one of my first jobs.
I've been working since I was 13. Baltimore had (and may still have) this program that gave jobs to needy inner city kids. My first job was cleaning up debris (no - a better word would be trash) along the Chesapeake Bay. Every day I went out there in the hot summer sun in a hard hat and construction boots to pick up the garbage that other people left. While my current position is a long way from that first job, I think back to those times often.
So, here I am sitting in the pew (yes - I take my notepad everywhere), listening to the youth choir sing the song 'Grateful'
"I'm grateful, grateful, grateful grateful"
and I can't help but think about how blessed my life has been. Then, my eyes get a little misted. Even when I was out there doing a job that nobody else wanted to do, I never stopped dreaming about how I wanted my life to turn out. Over the years, I've worked very hard to achieve those dreams. I became the first in my family to go to college (with honors), the first to get a graduate degree and the first to start climbing the corporate ladder. And, I had incredible setbacks. Events that nearly crippled me. But, in the same way that I didn't climb the ladder without HIS help, when life kicked me in the neck with steel toe boots, HE was there to break my fall.
So, when I hear that 'Grateful' song. I can't help but be overcome. HE literally brought me through The Wire and I'm soo grateful! I'm glad I got over myself and attended the service with my Grandma.
Amen
Holla
No comments:
Post a Comment