Wade Long, Older Man

One of the most favorite things in my world is working with the Social Justice team at my church, the Oasis.  On Saturdays, we go out and volunteer with other organizations, doing a number of unspecified outreach tasks; all culminating in the simplicity of letting people know God cares, and so does His children. 

Now, I must first off admit that due to some disappointing ministerial experiences in my past, Social Justice, for me, can be like taking medicine:  At times I must nearly force myself to do it, but its healing properties far outlast the 3 hours we all commit ourselves to. 

And if it’s true that these healing properties can be equated with penicillin, one of our most recent outings must have been an outpatient surgery, at the very least.

For the sake of time, I’ll spare the specifics of where we went and what it was that we did.  But I will say it was genuine fun to find myself 1 of 3 men in the lot where we worked, with a sledgehammer in hand assigned to the destruction of large pieces of wood.  The truth is it’s a stress reliever like none other.  And I found myself thinking of situations I’ve never had the opportunity to amply express my frustrations with, and had at it!

I thought about the relationship I was in a few years ago with a woman who swore she KNEW I was the man God had sent to be her husband - even to the point of publicly referring to her own daughter as my stepdaughter - just to tell me a mere 2 weeks later that she did in fact love me, but was not “in love” with me… And I swung the sledgehammer!

I thought about the less than neighborly citizen here in L.A., who recently took it upon himself to snatch my IPhone out of my hand as he took his morning bike ride down the sidewalk… And I swung the sledgehammer!

I began to think of my day job (referred to in an earlier entry).  And as I carried away a few of the pieces I had chopped into the pile we stacked I noticed a young man about 1/3 my age, with my sledgehammer in his hand.

I wanted to make him give it back, and I had a plan.  I would tell him it was too dangerous for him.  That would do it!

 … So after repenting from my selfishness I noticed I was truly concerned for his wellbeing.  So I began to stop him, anyway.

Then - in him - I saw myself.  I, too, was “younger” before.  And with my father out of my life, coupled with being the youngest of four men-children all solely raised by our mother, I was usually sheltered from all things remotely dangerous.  Loved, but sheltered.  Cared for, but protected; too much, in many ways. And because of that - in part - until this day I am frankly often afraid to try new things.  Now, I was an older man; still young, but somewhat empowered not to let the same thing happen to another young “me”. 

I looked again at the young man, now wanting him to believe more than all, that nothing was too dangerous for him!  Then, I nodded toward him…  And he swung the sledgehammer!

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