Over the last two and a half years of work with teenage guys in a drug and alcohol rehab house, I have laughed, cried, gained a few patches of gray hair, sworn more than I think I ever have before, and heard a heck of a lot of stories. I have heard some very sad, terrible, and absolutely heart-breaking stories; but, I have also heard and been a part of some of the most amazing, glorious, joy-filled, fork-in-the-journey stories.
I love stories. Even though I've never been good at telling them, I really enjoy them. If you've ever spent any time with me, you know that when I start a story, it will probably end with, "Well, I guess you just had to be there." Maybe that is because I love looking back on the stories from my past; sometimes, but not always involving the people I'm talking with about the stories. The stories that have challenged me deeply. The stories that have left me asking more questions than enjoying the relief of an answer. The stories that when we look back, have made us who we are.
The stories of others seem to invite us into something that we weren't a part of, but that we desperately wish we had been. With this coming to life in me over the last few months, I began to write down conversations and interactions between the guys that I work with and myself. I was noticing a lot of opportunities that I felt that I was able to teach into, learn from, and also gather great stories. I've tried to start putting together a small book of hope.
I'll start off with what I put as I guess, my foreward? My prologue? I hope to continue posting these "chapters" as I sporadically finish writing them.
Welp, here goes nothin'.
Where We End Up
Foreward
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I think that one of the greatest, and possibly one of the most tragic things in life is that every young man wants to be his father. Maybe not the occupation; but the man, that's who we want to be. I grew up in a home that was governed by a man with an established foundation of respect; respect not only for himself, but for everyone else as well. In turn, I learned respect, and if it wasn't given, intentionally or unintentionally, a swift rebuke or the sting of a paddle on my butt was going to teach me the hard way. I used to hate this. I hated it for multiple reasons, mostly because I didn't fully understand the way that it worked. It wasn't like stealing or lying, two things that we all innately know are wrong; this was different, almost unexplainable. A life lesson that could only be taught to me by a good man who respected others no matter the respect or kindness shown to him. I have to look to my father as the guiding light of my life. The man who taught me to fish, to be honest no matter what, to always work my hardest no matter the payment, and that it is not about waiting for someone's respect in order to return it, but to give it whether it is deserved or warranted.
I have found it very interesting that no matter how hard we try to understand life, and no matter how much effort we put into learning, there are certain facets that will come out of nowhere, unexpected, and honestly, very undesired. I say undesired in the way that this type of learning is not chosen by many. It is not a path that is often embarked upon with a light heart or a joyous dance. This path does not leave many unscathed and most end up crawling, mangled, or left for dead. There is not often a battle cry at the beginning of this journey, it is normally christened by a whispering of questions: what the hell have I done, and where the hell am I going? This journey is not for the weak in mind or heart, for they may believe they have found their way, but they are often walking in the opposite direction of the spears and the arrows, wielding no real weapons in the fight for their life; inviting and coaxing others to join in their march of retreat. The weak often boast and embellish themselves loudly while running away from the actual battle. This is perceived by most as a smokescreen to cover their retreat. So, the question must be begged, why does one retreat? Where does the cowardice begin? And, can it be reversed? Can the fear and shame from misguidance be transformed into something great? And, how? I will take the stance that there is hope for a change, but, there is no formula or step-to-step program that can guarantee an end to the cycle of despair in the heart of a young man. It is only through the investment and guidance of one who is just as scared of the journey and just as hesitant to embark, but who does not permit his own life, or any of those around him to be shaken by that fear. The journey of a man's heart into the unknown must be accompanied by other men unwilling to retreat, unwilling to abandon the resounding call for true life; and, they must be willing to carry those who have the desire, yet do not have the strength.
The stories to follow are only made possible by grace, and other men who have crawled alongside, carried me, and urged me to stay the course.
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I hope to soon finish up and post my first chapter on here in the next few weeks.
Chapter 1
Leave It Better Than You Found It
...coming soon
...coming soon
