Rocked. Ever
have one of those days? You know the kind. Things are just not going well. Whether it’s one thing or many things, you
can’t seem to win. These are the kinds
of days that make us wish that we’d have stayed in bed. If only there was a way to fast forward past
them or rewind back to the good ol’ days with the added bonus of being able to
see the future so you can skip those days. If only.
Well, dear readers, today was one of those
days for me. Wrote a song about
it. Wanna hear it? Here it goes!
Kidding. Y’all were waiting and
looking for a hyperlink to a song or maybe even me singing. Maybe one day,
but not today. Instead, let me tell you about my
day.
I came out of the building to get into my car and from a distance,
I see what looks to be some scratches on the passenger side door. No big deal, I thought. Once I get closer, I see that it’s more than
just a few scratches. My car’s been
hit! The door is dented and scraped down
to the primer! This has to have been done by an
SUV or truck with a metal bumper. Did I
tell y’all that I’m also an amateur detective?
Well, now you know. Ok, back to
the point. Guess what else. To top it all off, my door won’t open without a
decent amount of effort! Do you think
there was a note on my window?
Nope. As you can imagine, I was
hot! Boiling! But I didn’t stay in that place. I couldn’t afford to. It’s a car.
Now, make no mistake. I was angry. I can hear you saying, “Eric, you’re a cool
cat who’s better than me, because I’d have had a fit!” I know.
If we dial the clock back a bit, I’d have done the same thing. But now, I’ve got perspective. I know what matters. The main point of my frustration about
it? The dishonesty. Leave a note.
Fess up. Don’t scoot off and say,
“Oh well.” That’s pretty funny, because
that’s exactly what I said a little while later after I was done venting. No, I’m not that cool, so stop saying
it. Remember what I said to y’all in my
post Bigger Things? Yep. Time to live my own words. I did.
Y’all would have been proud. I let it
go. I let it ride (pun intended). Wooosaaahhh.
After all, what was I going to do?
It was all good. Not a major
deal. Until I got home.
I get home and get the mail out of the mailbox. All of a sudden I can hear the opening line from
Chuck D. in Public Enemy’s Black Steel in
the Hour of Chaos. "I got a letter from the government. The other day..." Except it wasn’t
that kind of letter. It was big enough
to rock my world. And not in the way
Michael Jackson sings about that woman.
You see, I’m a man of faith. A follower
of Jesus Christ. I speak faith. I live it. I tell it to other folk. I tell other folk to do it too. Well,
this letter was testing my faith. Y’all! First the car and now this! Time to blow a gasket,
right?! I can still hear you. “Yeah, Eric!
It’s time to let ‘er rip! Let ‘em
have it! Sock it to ‘em, bud!” Sounds good.
Might even feel good. But only to
my flesh. Temporarily. See, that’s the way I’d have responded prior
to January of this year. Angrily. Fearful.
Fretful. Now? Naw, dawg.
That cat is dead! The old me. He’s gone.
Y’all are talkative today, because I can hear you yet again. You’re saying, “Huh? Eric, what do you mean? Dead? You
look alive and well to me here in Internetland.
I think I get it, but what are you saying?”
I’m glad you asked. Stay with
me. I’m going somewhere.
See, I used to respond like that. To everything. About everything. Before I go any further, let me clear
something up. Yes. I still get angry, frustrated, flat out
mad, and any other emotions you want to list. So don’t think that I’m saying my
life is always sunny and 75 degrees (that’s 24 degrees Celsius for my
international audience). Got me? Cool.
Like I was saying, I used to be all angry and shaken and all that
jazz. Until I realized, what’s the point? If I really
believe all the Jesus stuff I was spittin’, then what am I buggin’
for? Why am I trippin’? Exactly.
So I stopped. Y’all still have
more to say? “Umm, yes, Eric. So what do you do now? How do you respond when the top caves in and the
bottom drops out? Because I just lose my…” Whoa.
Slow down there, sport. Here’s
what I do. I get angry, but I don’t stay
in that place. I get scared, but I don’t
stay there or dwell on it. In short, I
express. Oh, and I pray. Man, do I pray! I cry out to the Lord! Sometimes, it’s literally me crying. No, not tears of sadness necessarily. Sometimes, they're tears of joy and thankfulness.
And today I learned more about what those really are. You wanna know? Peep.
Come back next week for Part 2. I know. I know. Sorry, y'all. Trust me. It'll be worth the wait. Until then, be e-z. Peace.
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