I stumbled across a CD this week of my old band from college, and I shared it with my friend K-Max during our down time at work this week. Funny how listening to it now feels totally different than way back when it was recorded. Funny, in a sad way.
You see, I used to write songs. Lots of them. I don’t claim to be Bob Dylan, but some of them were o.k. for what they were. Most dealt with relationships gone sour…typical teen-angst type stuff. Every once in a while, I’d come up with a turn-of-phrase that I think was catchy, or a melody that was decent. Most of them were run-of-the-mill 80’s rock rip offs.
The striking thing to me now is how hopeless and sad they were. My whole life revolved around whether or not this girl or that girl liked me, and if they didn’t, I sank like a stone in a deep pond. For a kid who spent nearly every Sunday morning of his entire life in church, hearing about the hope that is in Christ, that’s just sad.
How did I miss it? What made a kid that knew had heard that Truth over and over miss it somehow? In those times of sadness and loneliness that every teen seems to face, why didn’t I have some glimmer of hope in Christ? What caused me to miss it?
The Wading Pool 