I've been riding public transportation to work every morning for the past few weeks. During this period I was reminded of the Love/Hate relationship I've always shared with Public trans. 'Hate' because for some reason it always smells like a homeless man decided to use the back bench as his own personal toilet. And the driver always has an attitude as if there is a chain that attaches their ankle to the ticket machine. Hey, if you don't like your job, then Quit Ma'am! But 'Love' because of the community. The conversations you have on the bus with complete strangers are hysterical. But even more hysterical are the conversations you overhear. Gold! Absolute Gold!!
We'll discuss one conversation in particular. I'm sure this stranger won't mind me sharing this seeing as though she was speaking at a volume that suggested this was in no way confidential. Also I want you to keep in mind that what I'm about to tell you is 100% true. Nothing has been added, and/or altered in any way for the sake of providing you with an interesting read. Ok, now that that's out of the way. Here we go.
(Young lady on her phone)
~"Girl, I think my inappropriate humor stems from me being raped when I was younger"...
Now let's stop right there for a second. I'm no expert in the field of psychology. Nor do I know if there is any linkage between rape victims and the effect it has on humor. But I Do know that on a crowded bus at 9:30 in the morning is not the best time to discuss it.
(Cont.)
~"No, I wouldn't say that I'm still hurt by it. But I will say, since that happened to me, I be havin' sex all the time! One night stands, threesomes all that. Haha".
Now at this time Mrs. Patricia, (My 65 year old bus buddy), gave me the "Are you listening to this?" face. At which point I shot back the "Heck Yea I'm listening to this!" face. Disturbed to say the least, Mrs. Patricia and I kept our ears turned to this young lady's unfortunate conversation.
(Cont.)
~"My kids..."
(Oh geez, she has kids).
~"My kids fathers are the best at puttin' it down though. That's why I keep them around and put up with their bullsh**"...
Not because it's important for children to have a constant male influence in their lives. But because they're good at sex. This was her rationale for keeping the children's fathers around. This soliloquy continued for about 15 minutes. No idea why I even entertained the dialogue for so long, but it was just so intriguing. It's like seeing a really bad car crash. You hope to God that you don't see any dead bodies, but you just can't help but look anyway. I'll admit, the only nudge of distraction that prevented me from listening further was a question I was asked by my Bus Buddy Mrs. Patricia.
~"So, what are you going to do?".
What am 'I' going to do? I planned on finishing my coffee and getting off in the next few stops. And hopefully make it to work on time. That's what I planned to do. But for some reason my bus buddy decided it was my unequivocal civic duty to talk to this young lady and "bestow some Godly counsel" as she so eloquently stated. What was I supposed to say? With only 2 stops left on my trip how was I supposed to impart something substantial that could counteract all the trash that was just spewed from this girls mouth? A seemingly impossible task I'll admit. So I did the only thing I knew to do. I closed my eyes and listened for a second. And heard,
~"Tell her she's loved, Tell her she's loved."
Tell her she's loved? That's it?! Not the message I was overly excited to relay to a complete stranger, but in a day and age where words often go untold and messages unheard. I figured I'd give it a shot. Besides, I've been trying this new thing for the past few weeks. Getting Cameron out of the way and letting "it" happen. Not my will but His.
I walked toward the front of the bus where she was sitting. All the while rehearsing this one line bombshell over and over in my head. I pulled the string to signal to "Old Ms. Attitude" bus driver that I wanted to get off. And at this moment I stood right over top of the young lady. She noticed how close I was and looked up at me. I noticed that yea, I was entirely too close and looked down at her.....
~"You're loved".
She covered the microphone of her phone. Confusion set in on her face.
~"What?!".
The face she made was very familiar, as it was the exact same face all 30 bus passengers were giving her during her entire phone conversation. So I wasn't offended, if anything I owed her one.
~"I said, You are loved.".
~"Oh, I thought you had said somethin' else. But what that mean?."
In an ideal world, I was hoping that I could tell a stranger that 'They were loved' and that would be the end of the conversation. I wasn't really anticipating a follow up question.
~"Just whatever it means to you. I think at times we can go through life and forget how truly loved we are. So I'm just giving you a friendly reminder".
(She paused for a moment.)
~"Girl, let me call you back" and continued, "Wow, nobody's ever told me anything like that before. Thank you"
~"No problem. Have a good day".
If I can be honest, I walked off in my best "Denzel Washington stroll" impersonation. Simply put, it felt good. It felt like I just did what I was purposed for or something. As if I needed any additional confirmation, a silent clapping gesture from Mrs. Patricia from the back of the bus put things further into perspective.
But what, if anything, was learned here? What life altering lesson was pulled away from this experience? The message for me was quite simple.
People are hurting. People are literally crying out loud for help and we have to be in position to hear the distress. That obnoxious phone conversation wasn't on display to invite ridicule. No! It was an outward expression of her inner self. Hoping that there was something or someone willing to help aid and restore the desolation. I had a choice that day on the bus. I could have done what most people that day chose to do and cast my extraneous judgments. "Look at this ratchet girl sounding absolutely foolish! She wasn't raised correctly. She should be ashamed!" (Man, the passengers were HURLING stones!). Or I could step out of my comfort zone, open my mouth, and speak to dry bones. Taking a step back and realizing that no matter how lost someone may be. Gods Love and Mercy is still very much accessible in that persons life as it is in mine. Let's make a conscious effort to look through the same lens as He does. What if Jesus scolded the woman for touching his garment? What if he ridiculed that "crazy guy" possessed by Legion? His message was Love. His message IS Love. And THAT should be our message as well. Thanks for reading.
We'll discuss one conversation in particular. I'm sure this stranger won't mind me sharing this seeing as though she was speaking at a volume that suggested this was in no way confidential. Also I want you to keep in mind that what I'm about to tell you is 100% true. Nothing has been added, and/or altered in any way for the sake of providing you with an interesting read. Ok, now that that's out of the way. Here we go.
(Young lady on her phone)
~"Girl, I think my inappropriate humor stems from me being raped when I was younger"...
Now let's stop right there for a second. I'm no expert in the field of psychology. Nor do I know if there is any linkage between rape victims and the effect it has on humor. But I Do know that on a crowded bus at 9:30 in the morning is not the best time to discuss it.
(Cont.)
~"No, I wouldn't say that I'm still hurt by it. But I will say, since that happened to me, I be havin' sex all the time! One night stands, threesomes all that. Haha".
Now at this time Mrs. Patricia, (My 65 year old bus buddy), gave me the "Are you listening to this?" face. At which point I shot back the "Heck Yea I'm listening to this!" face. Disturbed to say the least, Mrs. Patricia and I kept our ears turned to this young lady's unfortunate conversation.
(Cont.)
~"My kids..."
(Oh geez, she has kids).
~"My kids fathers are the best at puttin' it down though. That's why I keep them around and put up with their bullsh**"...
Not because it's important for children to have a constant male influence in their lives. But because they're good at sex. This was her rationale for keeping the children's fathers around. This soliloquy continued for about 15 minutes. No idea why I even entertained the dialogue for so long, but it was just so intriguing. It's like seeing a really bad car crash. You hope to God that you don't see any dead bodies, but you just can't help but look anyway. I'll admit, the only nudge of distraction that prevented me from listening further was a question I was asked by my Bus Buddy Mrs. Patricia.
~"So, what are you going to do?".
What am 'I' going to do? I planned on finishing my coffee and getting off in the next few stops. And hopefully make it to work on time. That's what I planned to do. But for some reason my bus buddy decided it was my unequivocal civic duty to talk to this young lady and "bestow some Godly counsel" as she so eloquently stated. What was I supposed to say? With only 2 stops left on my trip how was I supposed to impart something substantial that could counteract all the trash that was just spewed from this girls mouth? A seemingly impossible task I'll admit. So I did the only thing I knew to do. I closed my eyes and listened for a second. And heard,
~"Tell her she's loved, Tell her she's loved."
Tell her she's loved? That's it?! Not the message I was overly excited to relay to a complete stranger, but in a day and age where words often go untold and messages unheard. I figured I'd give it a shot. Besides, I've been trying this new thing for the past few weeks. Getting Cameron out of the way and letting "it" happen. Not my will but His.
I walked toward the front of the bus where she was sitting. All the while rehearsing this one line bombshell over and over in my head. I pulled the string to signal to "Old Ms. Attitude" bus driver that I wanted to get off. And at this moment I stood right over top of the young lady. She noticed how close I was and looked up at me. I noticed that yea, I was entirely too close and looked down at her.....
~"You're loved".
She covered the microphone of her phone. Confusion set in on her face.
~"What?!".
The face she made was very familiar, as it was the exact same face all 30 bus passengers were giving her during her entire phone conversation. So I wasn't offended, if anything I owed her one.
~"I said, You are loved.".
~"Oh, I thought you had said somethin' else. But what that mean?."
In an ideal world, I was hoping that I could tell a stranger that 'They were loved' and that would be the end of the conversation. I wasn't really anticipating a follow up question.
~"Just whatever it means to you. I think at times we can go through life and forget how truly loved we are. So I'm just giving you a friendly reminder".
(She paused for a moment.)
~"Girl, let me call you back" and continued, "Wow, nobody's ever told me anything like that before. Thank you"
~"No problem. Have a good day".
If I can be honest, I walked off in my best "Denzel Washington stroll" impersonation. Simply put, it felt good. It felt like I just did what I was purposed for or something. As if I needed any additional confirmation, a silent clapping gesture from Mrs. Patricia from the back of the bus put things further into perspective.
But what, if anything, was learned here? What life altering lesson was pulled away from this experience? The message for me was quite simple.
People are hurting. People are literally crying out loud for help and we have to be in position to hear the distress. That obnoxious phone conversation wasn't on display to invite ridicule. No! It was an outward expression of her inner self. Hoping that there was something or someone willing to help aid and restore the desolation. I had a choice that day on the bus. I could have done what most people that day chose to do and cast my extraneous judgments. "Look at this ratchet girl sounding absolutely foolish! She wasn't raised correctly. She should be ashamed!" (Man, the passengers were HURLING stones!). Or I could step out of my comfort zone, open my mouth, and speak to dry bones. Taking a step back and realizing that no matter how lost someone may be. Gods Love and Mercy is still very much accessible in that persons life as it is in mine. Let's make a conscious effort to look through the same lens as He does. What if Jesus scolded the woman for touching his garment? What if he ridiculed that "crazy guy" possessed by Legion? His message was Love. His message IS Love. And THAT should be our message as well. Thanks for reading.