Friday, July 28, 2006

A day in the life

This post was prompted by my cousines blog. As she described all about her job I saw a side of my job that was some-what if not distantly related. I am a court runner for a Bankruptcy law firm. I know, your failing to see the realation right? Well I am in and out of a busy Indianapolis court house. I see many people every day. From the man standing next to me in the elevator glancing at his Rolex watch, to the other young man slouched in the corner with a dirty white t-shirt with shorts that look like baggy jeans due to the lack of a belt to hold them in their proper place. Did I mention he also has a little black box stapped to his ankle. Their are young and old lawyers full of wisdom ready to help their current clients, pro-bono or not. I have seen many women step out of courts with tears rolling down their faces, and have heard many men raise their voices and flap their hand to voice and show their frustrations. I am a courious individual, if not somewhat nosey. I have to wonder what is their case??? What have they been thru??? I have been tempted many a time to sneak in the back of the court room and listen in. One happy sight that I do get to see and just recently found out why it was so repetitve. Thursdays are "Adoption day" I love taking the elevator to the 17th floor and stepping of and seeing happy individuals holding young smiling children in their arm or holding them tightly by the hand. It is a happy day for everyone. I leave smiling and saying a thankful prayer that God does care about the children. I have heard so many stories, and ones that are often followed up with "I know you hear this all the time, but MY story is TRUE!!"
People are interesting creations. I pass a preacher on the corner everyday, he is quite disheveled and yet he holds his old bible in his hands and talks about the love of God and mumbles many other words I can't make out. Another man I am greeted with "have a nice day" Almost every time I pass. Rumors have it that this man with a scruffy beard and sits in a lawn chair just out side of Subway, has a house and doesn't pay his bill somehow escapes being evicted. He has many helpers, I have seen finer men slip him a few "green ones". I don't know his name. But if you were to ask an fellow "Indy" resident, that visits downtown on a regular basis. They would tell you they know "Mr. Have-a-Nice-day"
As I pass each interesting individual and ponder what are they facing, a song often comes to mind, and makes me wonder past their current situation and take a moment to consider the state of their soul. We have so many "LOST SOULS"! I want to help them see the light of Jesus thru me, so where I am not reaching into the pockets of my jean skirt, or into the zipper pocket of my trusty green shoulder bag looking for change to throw into the "Jimmy John's" cup thrust in front of me. I simply smile and say "sorry I don't have anything I can give." RUDE, you might say. Or even your thinking "I don't blame you." I just have to hope that they can see something different in me. I want to close with the song that I mentioned earlier, I have always loved it, but it has come to have a deeper meaning to me in the last few months.

Everyday they pass me by.
I can see it in their eyes.
Empty people filled with care,
headed who knows where.
On they go thru private pain
Living fear to fear.
Laughter hides their silent cries
only Jesus hears.

People need the Lord.
People need the Lord.
At the end of Broken dreams
He's the open door.
People need the Lord.
People need the Lord.
When will we realize
People need the Lord.

We are called to take His light
To a world where wrong seems right
What could be too great a cost for
Sharing life with one who's lost
Through His love our hearts can feel
All the grief they bear
They must hear the words of life
Only we can share

People need the Lord
People need the Lord
At the end of broken dreams
He's the open door
People need the Lord
When will they realize
That we must give our lives
For people need the Lord
People need the Lord

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

In my beginning and a little further

2 young people on the "hill top",as it is so foundly refered to, were falling in love some 28 years ago. Finally the nervous young man pulled the car over to a curb and got out on his knee and asked his blushing girlfriend to be his "one and only." She accepted and on a hot June afternoon in a stuffy church with NO air conditioner they said their "I Do" with sweat on their brows. About 4 years later they found that their was going to be an addition to their family. The mother thought for sure the baby within her womb would be fit to be named "Wesley." She cooed and talked to her baby and finally after many nights of peanut buster parfits from the local DQ she was feeling quite uncomfortable. Thinking it was just indigestion....she called up her younger sister, who was a nurse and also very pregnant at the time herself, and explained her feelings feeling sure because of the lack of back pain that it was not labor other then the fact the pains came in spurts. Her sister insisted that she get to the hopital. So the young 24 year old women stepped over her grass stained shoes, that were laying there from her mowing the lawn just the day before, and waddled to the car. After several hours of labor and much pain a beautiful baby GIRL was born about 8:20 a.m. October 8 1981. Safe to say they did have a girls name prepared "Janella Rachelle" But the proud father called her "Janella" so lovingly, where the mother called the squirming bundle of joy "Rachelle". When finally it came down to the roomate asking "what are you going to call this baby?" Daddy won.
Well I went home to a little house in Dayton, Oh were I continued to grow and become a very independent first born. I was soon joined with a girl cousine just a few months later just a little late for Christmas. Then a big move came when I was about 1 and a half, all the way to Indiana, Daddy's home state, to a little town called Westfield. This move was do to a job change for mommy. She was going to be a college music teacher at private Bible college. Thus during the day I was passed to many a babysitter and several college girls trying to get my attention. It is little wonder I picked up a few "boy- sitters" as well. As college kids will, to win me over several candy bars, drinks of pop and tastes of ice cream came my much so that mommy attached a sign to me that said "Don't Feed me". (no worry's I was a cute rolly-polly toddler)
At around 3 I was joined by a baby brother, who to me was nothing but a LIVE babydoll. I loved helping be a little mommy. Even though I am sure I was underfoot alot, mommy was patient and allowed me to be a helper.
I began kindergartin and by Christmas I had another little brother. Now I could be the customary bossy older sister. Which I believe I more then likely filled the bill perfectly. Still independent as ever I still was a loveing and very tender child. My brothers and I had many escapades one of which almost killed or paralyzed my little brother. The story is as follows: my littlest brother was going to be the rider of this "New Rollar Coaster" we had invinted on our swing set. We had a few trial runes with no there he was sitting on the floor of the glider with his feet sticking out freely in the air. My other brother and I standing our posts at the sides, we began swinging as high as we could all of us were giggiling, just as inocent children do. When all of the sudden my little brother slid forward when we were high in the air and his feet flew back underneath of the glider. No problem right??? Well it would have been if the glider would have been about 8 more inches off the ground. Needless to say we came to a grinding halt, or should I say a "neck-breaking" halt. My little brother was screaming and not moving, his body bent like a gymnest. We jumped off the glider and pushed it back into the air so that he could free his legs. At this point mom was at the window asking what was wrong. I was in tears at the sight of my little brother and wondering if he was ok. He was except for being sore, scared and have a bright red rub burn almost the full length of his neck. Let's just say our "Rollar Coaster" was put "out of order for the rest of our lives." These and many more lessons I learned growing up that as much of a pest my brothers and family could be at times they were the same ones I loved the most and cared for the most. I am a firm believer that "you can not choose your family, they are God's gift to you" (unknown)
More memories to come.