So Many Faces


Faces fill my mind tonight, faces of people whom I see every day and of those I have not seen in years. Their voices ring through my ears as the rumble of a train in the distance, painting vivid images of the past.

...Two auditoriums full of silent bodies, breathing in and out, deciphering the words of their respective speakers, both of whom were passionate...one pursuaded with anger while the other testified with passion...a remarkable difference.

I sit...listen...drift off...remember...think...wonder...
Why did He choose me, a small child, naive yet completely aware, to show these things to?

I can still feel that clammy bottle, broken and covered in sand, as my tiny gloved hands reached down to transfer it from the gutter to a huge black trash bag, already filled with syringes and other unclean things. I remember looking up to see them watching me from behind the screens on their porches. Even the police would not go near them. I was fearless, with the faith to move mountains.

Her eyes have never left me-They were deep and untrustworthy. She lured him into her web with words of honey that once on the lips tasted of vinigar. Hours of false sincerity and the experiences she confessed still haunt me. The thought of her cooking meth in her kitchen and the stories of what it did to her makes my heart sink...she was ruled by darkness, but still, God's grace is sufficient for her.

As tiny as she was, she knew more about pain that I can imagine. She was used, abused, torn from normalcy. She was questioned, played, scorned, and without family. Bitterness is buried deep within her and, I can't help but think, rightly so.
She nears 16, and still fights for security. The only one she trusted deceived her and now sides with her adversaries.
A wall of cold hard stone guards her heart of gold; she is bruised, but redeemed.

She had ten kids, from ten different fathers. She was an addict and a prostitute; Her pimp was the only authority they knew.
The family of multiple seeds lacked nurturing and guidance and called the streets their home, but it was not sweet. She was lost and on her way to the death bed when she found life. Today, she is famous for her fried chicken and her story has swept the nation.

He led with a gentle hand and a deep love of people. He never met a stranger and never walked by without enveloping me in a bear hug and a pat on the head. She was like a mother to me. She was not only an entertainer, but a fabulous cook. They made people smile. Then they were gone. Shortly thereafter, she lost her way. Though we do not know where or who she is today, we pray for her return to the throne of mercy. He has remained faithful, serving those in need and bringing joy to the hearts he enounters. I miss them terribly.

He was so loved. He called me by name in a way no one else did. It ended for him. It was his choice. But he is not forgotten.
I still hear his voice and feel his hugs. I see the way his eyes lit up when he laughed. No, by the burning lump in my throat, he will never be forgotten.

So many faces...They take over my thoughts. They are forever burned on my memory just as my name is burned on His hand.
I might never know why He chose me, but I know that He did for a specific reason. It all happened before I was old enough to doubt or fear. Life was raw then-without the tint of imposed theories. I was presented a foundation of real life experience and imperfections. Why then do I find myself with a numb heart? Have I been so affected by the surreal life that the past is no longer relevant? I tread water trying to return to those days, only to grow tired from the effort. They were there to teach me...and the lessons I learned have been invaluable.