Good morning Lord
This is the day you have made and I will on purpose rejoice and be glad in it.
This morning, I woke remembering the feelings of rejection. I went back to a scary place. It was in the third grade. I was the new kid in town. With crooked teeth, freckles and a squeaky voice, my confidence and my knees were shaky. Steve Sjostram was the local bully. I became an immediate target – and for what seemed like an eternity I was the bulls-eye for all of his practical jokes, teasing and humiliation.
The other kids laughed at my expense.
Normally I was coordinated and somewhat athletic. But my nervousness turned me into a klutz. I was the guy still standing there after all the teams had been picked, and no one wanted me. Rejected.
Eventually, I made friends. I wish I could say I punched Steve Sjostram in the face and learned a great lesson about bullyhood. But I never did, I just endured. However, years later we moved across the alley from his house. I became friends with his brother and eventually somewhat friendly with Steve.
Anyway, the fear of those days returned this morning – the feelings of everyone staring at my klutzy self and laughing – and having no one as a friend. I remember feeling all alone and lost in a crowded school. Those feelings haunt me today. My fingers are a little shaky as I attempt to tap these keys. And the screen is a little blurry as my eyes begin to pool. Excuse me for a moment as I wipe away these tears.
I have nothing to offer. Not a talent I can bring. I guess that’s why I cry each time I hear the little drummer boy sing. “I have no gift to bring, pa rum pum pum pum.” Maybe I see you as the bully at school. Why? Because I’m reaching out each time I write with squeaky voice and shaky confidence. Maybe that’s why I write (to face my fears) maybe that’s why I don’t (because of them.)
Today I will write for my King and if the bully slays me then he slays me. If you like me you like me – if you don’t you don’t.
Today my King I will play my best for you pa rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum,
Then He smiles at me, pa rum pum pum pum
Through these tears I can see His smile, feel His healing.
This post is part of the blog carnival on Healing, hosted by http://bridgetchumbley.com/ To read more, please visit her site.
Little Drummer Boy: Lyrics
Come they told me, pa rum pum pum pum
A new born King to see, pa rum pum pum pum
Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pum pum pum
To lay before the King, pa rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum,
So to honor Him, pa rum pum pum pum,
When we come.
Little Baby, pa rum pum pum pum
I am a poor boy too, pa rum pum pum pum
I have no gift to bring, pa rum pum pum pum
That's fit to give the King, pa rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum,
Shall I play for you, pa rum pum pum pum,
On my drum?
Mary nodded, pa rum pum pum pum
The ox and lamb kept time, pa rum pum pum pum
I played my drum for Him, pa rum pum pum pum
I played my best for Him, pa rum pum pum pum,
rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum,
Then He smiled at me, pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum.
9 comments:
we might be related, Doug. who can ever forget the rejection as a child? i wasn't any where's near the top of the pecking order and it was a struggle to stay off the bottom as well. as for the klutz factor...lol. i was the last choice on any sports pick whether it was softball, football, or soccer. i've heard it said around here that we're all on the same level field. still trying to wrap my mind around that thought process. just keep playin` that drum:)
Doug,
Be brave. Let the honesty and the redemptive power of your words give you strength. You are never alone.
Doug, great post. It seems we all fight that past that won't let go, but God is so gracious. You're standing up to the bully of rejection. That's huge! And that's God inside you. Blessings...
Great post, Doug. I love your honesty about the fears that we all feel when we reveal ourselves in writing.
(Also, your blog's name rocks!)
Doug, I, too was always the last to be chosen for sports teams (any sports team). I still would be. And I could be bullied, too. For you, it's third grade; for me, it's Keith in the 7th grade.
Thanks for sharing this.
Good to have you back, Doug, from wherever you've been hiding. As busy as I am, I had time to miss you and wonder how you are.
Yes, it is good to have you back and hear your "voice."
Sometimes those school-based/ neighborhood-based experiences can kick our tails for years and years. I still knee-jerk sometimes when I'm nervous about the "group" possibilities that seem to invade my sight/heart.
And I absolutely love that song... one of my favorites.
Great post, Doug.
I feel your pain and understand those awful feelings. There was a girl in HS that always liked the same guys I did (ALWAYS). She was beautiful, and I was awkward and under-developed... you get the picture.
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