Remember To Endure

Some good weeks prior to Christmas of 2011, demolition workers arrived a little ways behind the gates of my backyard. I heard the trees crack after a few days. I didn’t think anything would happen this serious. But it did. The rumors passed, turned into facts, and then became a bitter reality. I didn’t think it was true, but it was.

Let me explain. At least four or five years ago there was gossip about Evans Elementary being moved from the other side of the neighborhood to the vast woods behind our house (and so many others’). Kids would tease each other about it, nothing factual. And I never believed any of the stuff that went around, nor did anyone for that matter. Thus, it became a sort of “oh it could happen — but it won’t” type of thing.

Before anyone knew it, the man who owned the property died. And the land was just there for kids to play in. But then the rumors seemed real. Years went by, and after everyone forgot about the rumors, they returned, but this time more fierce and strong than before, because they weren’t rumors any longer, they were harsh facts. It was an abrupt change, but apparently a crucial one.

When at first the trees began to snap and collapse behind my backyard I took it as a revolting nightmare; the bloodthirsty world seemed cruel and demanding for money and power. But I realized even though the world was changing, it wasn’t decaying, but falling apart so that it could bend and shape into a slightly different world that was no doubt adjustable to my ability. God doesn’t give us more than we can handle and it was then that I grasped that and adapted to my surroundings.

So there’s a tall mound of clay and dirt behind our family’s backyard and construction workers are laboring hard to build a new school back there, and it’s for the better in God’s eyes. I may not see that now, but I’ll understand in time with His permission. And though every morning I now wake up to construction sounds and every morning I know I will soon hear kids screaming and laughing, God has it under control. My past childhood of hanging out in those woods tends to haunt me here and there but I’m content. Maybe we’ll move someday. Maybe we’ll stay right here. Maybe something BIGGER than this will occur. Maybe it’s just a test. I don’t know, but I do know that the future is soon, so I can’t waste any time now. I need to gulp a breath of confidence and dive straight into this crazy life that I live in. I’m not going to sit back and look at my life in the end and say, “Why didn’t I do something else here?” I’m just a humble, lowly, sinful teenager trying to fit into the scheme of things, and maybe it’ll pay off.