black sheep

"I'm not ready for this," she said.

It was raining, I think.  Proverbial black cloud, at least.  Twenty minutes before, we were laughing at a movie; rolling our empty beer cans down the aisle of the theater. 

"I'm indestructible", I thought.  "I'm gonna live forever".

Finally, I found a home and a family.  No one ever said family was defined by blood.  For me, family was about acceptance.  Being in a herd with other black sheep. 

Jesus, forgive me.  I wasn't even eighteen.

The rain was coming down hard.   Something about being young makes us think we never need shelter or an umbrella.  My face was dripping wet.  Never felt better; never conceived of any moments where anything would ever be different.

It was supposed to be a quick phone call; just to check in.  Had my lie ready. but as I learned later, I wasn't as clever as I believed.

In the background, they were huddled together; rushing me to hang up the phone.  Something about the tone of her voice... immediately, I knew.  Speaking of black sheep, sometimes, they never find their own herd.

Jesus forgive her, she was only fifteen. 


It is with heavy hearts....

I stopped right there.  I couldn't read anymore. 

I'm not ready for this.


Mondays are hard but Thursdays are worse.  End of September is rough but early October is twice as bad.  And by Christmas, it's all shoved back down... only to resurface at the most inopportune times. Like when I am asleep. 

And those faces, they gasp for air; choking on their potential... the potential they left behind.  And what I am supposed to do?  I've got my own potential, too.  But my heart, it beats and my brain, it pounds.  And my soul, it aches.  And my shoes, they're torn.  And my hands, they bleed from those nails and cross.  And my eyes, they seek... something pure or clean.  And this fool's a wiser and knowledge is bliss as I chew the nails of ambition and admit, I'll never be ready for this.

And Jesus forgive me, I'm not ready for you.  Can you delay the inevitable until I find me? 


"I'm not ready", he said.  "For sobriety or sleep".  It's one or the other, he knew down deep.  It was raining, it was pouring, I think.  Proverbial black cloud, at least.

We were indestructible, we thought.  We were family; a herd of black sheep.