A Brokenhearted Trail

There was a guy with a big heart, who just so happened to like young adult and teenagers and not in some kinky perverted way so get your mind out of the gutter.

 He felt for them, because there are so many things that you have to go through as a teenager and a young adult.  The big hearted man had been though these things himself, as a teen and as a young adult.  Luckily, because this man acted like a kid himself, he was able to relate to these groups of the populace at large.

Since this man with the big heart was a minister, he decided to get involved with youth ministry.  For awhile, he was very happy, and he felt like he was actually making a difference in a few lives.  It made the man feel self worth, made him happy, made him feel like he had finally found what he was supposed to do in this world.  All was well and right with the world for 2 years.

 Then a bad thing happened.

It wasn’t an illegal thing, or a horrible thing, just a bad thing.  You see, the big hearted man had trouble with the man in charge of the place where the big hearted man did his youth ministry.  Things began to unravel and the big hearted man became sad.  Very sad.  In the end, the big hearted man had to leave this place.  The youth who once called him at all hours of the day and night suddenly wouldn’t have anything to do with him and treated him like he was not a big hearted man, but a bad man.  This made the big hearted man even sadder.

 He had hoped to find another place where he could once again become involved and make a difference.  After a few months of searching, he thought he had found this place.  So he went there, not with the intent to take over, but just to get involved.  Maybe help out.  Unfortunately, he met with resistance, and wariness, and rumors.  Then, once again, a bad thing happened.  This was a different bad thing than before, but in the end, the big hearted man no longer felt welcome, despite the best efforts of the man in charge of the new place, who also happened to have a big heart.

 Perhaps the big hearted man should have stayed and tried to work through it, but in the end, he felt he couldn’t, for various personal reasons.  Once again, the big hearted man was sad.

 The big hearted man began to feel lost.  The trail he had been traveling became rocky, and had steep hills to climb and he became tired and simply lost his way in the wilderness.

 Well, the big hearted man didn’t like feeling this way.  So, he decided to try and explore other avenues, to try and reach out, to try and make a difference, once again.

He tried and tried several ideas.  The problem was, everywhere he went, he met with resistance and ridicule.  The resistance wasn’t so bad, but the ridicule was.  That was hard for the big hearted man to take.  So now, the big hearted man has stepped back, not knowing what else to do, feeling sad, lost and awkward.  Maybe one day, something will happen, some door will open, and the big hearted man can once again find it in himself to try and make a difference.  Maybe.

But, the big hearted man learned a valuable lesson.  There are many ways to have your heart broken, and all of them hurt just as bad.

Today’s Youth = Tomorrow’s Leaders (Ahem)

Where did we go wrong?  Ok, maybe that is really just a rhetorical question.  However, somewhere, my generation took a sharp left turn in raising our kids who are now teens.

Oh I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking I’m going to rant about the foibles of today’s something or other generation (is it x? y? z? aa? I can never keep up).  Well, you would be right.

I mean come on, have you looked at bozo the clown looking teens of today?

Never mind the tattoos and piercings.  Never mind the weird hair colors, never mind the pants that are about to fall off.  No, wait.  Let’s mind it.  A lot.

Hey, I was a teenager once.  We had our own fads.  In my town, in my day, it was cowboy hats with roach clips hanging off the back (purely for aesthetics, honest mom, I never did drugs.  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it).  But I look at today’s kids and I have to wonder.  I mean really really wonder.  How do some of these kids expect to get a job?

Whatever happened to the phrase, everything in moderation?  Apparently, we somehow missed the opportunity to pass that vital information on to our kids.  I can see my way past a little bit of “personalization”.  My own daughter has a piercing in her nose.  But I look around at some of these kids at the mall, even ones who are working and I think to myself – something just ain’t right yo.

Blue hair, red hair, white hair, green hair, practically every weird color you can imagine under the rainbow.  Facial tattoos.  More metal in their face than iron man, ripped clothing (if you can even classify some of it as clothing because it covers less than a bikini), thongs hanging out of the back of pants.  It just goes on.

If they aren’t trying to pass off as “Gangsta Paradise” (don’t judge, I roll old school Coolio ya know), their trying to look like something from the circus.

I expect a little rebellious behavior in teens.  I was one once, despite what my 17 year old daughter thinks.  But I look at these kids and I have to wonder, especially in talking to them, have they no idea what they are doing to their future?  The answer is a big fat no.  Why?  Because they don’t think what they are doing to themselves with their various circus colors and metal faces will make a difference.

Ahem

They obviously don’t understand corporate America.

Or they plan on working at fast food restaurants all their lives (no offense, but come on, how many more fast food places to we really need in this country?).

I’ve seen people who have just made it out of their teens, trying to make a living with battle scars from their piercings.  That’s right, they couldn’t keep them.  Once you get those holes in you, and let them close, they leave behind scars.

Then there is their clothing.  I’ve seen young adults, just out of their teens, still wearing their pants around their knees and wonder why they can’t get a decent paying job.

So where, exactly, did we take a left turn?  Did we get to busy, trying to keep our own heads above water trying to survive that we didn’t notice?  Or did we just get to the point where we made the mistake of not realizing the appropriate time to say no, and stick to it?

I don’t know, I just don’t understand it.  I’ve only let my daughter get one piercing and it’s in a place that won’t leave a visible scar and I have talked earnestly with her about the fact when she finishes college, she is gonna have to lose that nose piercing.  Which she doesn’t get.  Maybe I shouldn’t have allowed it in the first place.

Who knows what the future will bring.  We can hope that our youth start waking up and realize that youthful things must be left behind when they grow up.  It’s either that, or our next president may have facial piercings, and wear his pants around his knees.  What a horrible image.

~ Kev