Kickin' it old school, the past comes back

My mom used to clean out her closet almost monthly when I was a child. Out of all the purses thrown on the floor of the closet, she would only pick one little number to clean out at a time, leaving the rest for the next lottery drawing. She would grab a purse probably not used since 12 years prior and turn it upside down on her bed, spilling the contents onto her flowered lavender sheets. Usually the main staples recovered were an empty checkbook, about $3.32 in change, two paper clips, four non - writing writing utensils, crusty cough drop wrappers and a cigarette package conaining no cigarettes. Not to mention about fifteen receipts from various department stores as well as a few from the bar where she worked.

In some ways, I have become my mother.

I was going through an old purse the other day, and I found:

1. an old journal notebook
2. three pens from my church
3. a few expired Advil
4. some change
5. an eyeglass repair kit with screws that fit none of my sunglasses
6. a chocolate tulip sucker I inherited from my supervisor at WSFJ
7. a few movie ticket stubs (Why did I go to AMC this much? I don't even like that theater.)
8. Mickey D's coupons that expired a year and a half ago
9. half - empty (or full) box of Tic Tacs
10. the papers I signed for my botched 2004 Elantra car deal

I picked up the journal again, and discovered it contained lots of information. Notes on sermons and small group meetings I had attended, notes on a handgun class I took for the production and sales departments at WSFJ, some friend's addresses, directions to concerts and the like and random movie and TV quotes.

I flip to some song lyrics. A friend had all of his songs on dot matrix computer paper and I was in the process of putting them into Word files when I moved about four times. So, rather than risk losing them, they were promptly returned. However, not before I copied the words down to a song he played for me back in '99 or 2000 that really assessed where I was then, spiritually speaking.

I remember the night he played it for me on his guitar, and how I wept at hearing it. I remember sitting on a stool in his mother's basement. The damp air resonated with the words as the song explained the very core of how I was feeling. The words were just so truthful and honest. There comes a point in one's life where arguing against truth becomes futile. Hearing this song was a turning point for me. An important moment, and I shall never forget it.

Agnostic (c) Siloam 1998

Look at it from my perspective
It's not that I don't believe in God
It's just that you're not reflective of the truth you preach
I want to believe there is hope after death
I can't conceive how your lifestyle wastes your breath, and

I am stuck in the middle of the mean
I can't tell which grass is green
I'd love to jump the fence
but your double life prevents me

You speak of brotherhood
You say we're all one big family
I must have misunderstood
I thought that entailed unity, and

I am stuck in the middle of the mean
I can't tell which grass is green
I'd love to jump the fence
but your double life prevents me

You tell me to have faith
but you don't give me a reason to believe
"Here's what the Lord saith"
Funny how you pull words you don't follow out of your sleeve

I am hurting
I am searching
I need love
I could use some help from above, but

I am stuck in the middle of the mean
I can't tell which grass is green
I'd love to jump the fence
but your double life prevents me