Life is an after school special

By David Myers

Southwest Kansas Register

   I recently turned 44, which, you’ll agree, isn’t very interesting. It just isn’t one of those pinnacle years. I don’t qualify for anything; I don’t have to start getting examined once a year; and it’s too early to be bitter because I didn’t save any money for retirement. That will come later.

   But 45 is a different story. When I was in sixth grade, I recall a student asking my teacher his age, to which he responded, “45.” I remember thinking --  He’s so old! Wasn’t he about retirement age? Shouldn’t he have been using a cane? Shouldn’t he have been touring the country in a motor home with a bumper sticker that read “Senior Swingers”?

   As it turns out, 44 – and 45 for that matter – isn’t old at all. As a child, I had been misguided into thinking that the years to come were somewhere lost in infinity, when actually they were just around the next corner. I was tricked into thinking that middle-age was just for middle-age people, and that those years between now and then were so vast that I would remain a child forever.

   In effect, my childhood became a bit like the caffeine high you get before crashing back down to earth in need of aspirin and Tums. 

   In junior high school, the theme of my literature classes all seemed to focus on “loss of innocence” -- about kids making that transition from innocent child to troubled youth. I guess we were being warned -- sort of like a “contains explicit lyrics” label being stamped on the rest of our lives.

   The stories were so depressing! I didn’t want to hear about troubled kids. If I had problems, I went to my friends, like when I told my buddy Steve about a teacher who had gotten really mad at me. I’ll never forget the wisdom Steve imparted: “He’s probably from Mars or something.” And we’d laugh as we considered the ramifications of having a seventh grade teacher from Mars. (What does he eat for lunch? Tommy Grey hasn’t been in school for over a week!)

   The stories we read were kind of like those tedious “after school specials.” One day I was a happy-go-lucky kid watching “Addams Family” reruns, and the next day it was ... “Sarah T.: Portrait of a Teenage Alcoholic.” Yikes!

   In high school, my eyes slowly began to open. We’d hear about the parties -- and the stories coming from the parties -- and I realized I’d landed on that same weird planet as Sarah T., only I was still viewing it through a child’s eyes.  

   It was in college where I forgot to check that warning label; where my Holy Spirit said to himself, “Buckle up, dude. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.” I certainly wasn’t the most misbehaved kid in college, but truth be told, I could have starred in an entire series of after school specials: “Dave M.: Portrait of an Idiot.”

   Like so many youth, my journey through life had taken a detour down a pot-hole filled country road in blizzard conditions with low visibility and high winds, and enhanced by an ever-present odor of squashed skunk. If I could have seen my Holy Spirit at this time in my life, he would have been wearing a safety helmet.

   This, of course, is how we learn and grow. In making, recognizing, and learning from our own mistakes, we begin to see more clearly those made by others: It makes us become better parents; it makes us become better citizens.

   Which is also why, at 44, having reached this non-pinnacle age, I find myself searching for those early years of innocence, years I once thought were lost in infinity, but really are -- for each of us -- just around the next corner.

   While we can’t undo the things we’ve done in the past that have made us older than we are, we can be made new again. Which is pretty darn encouraging, when you thing about it!

   The road we travel between now and then is a brief one indeed; a life spent in the blink of an eye. Whether you are 25 or 95, always search for the innocence -- to be made new again. Be a child again. Yearn to look at the world through the innocent eyes of a child.

            It can happen. In fact, it’s easy. Just look for the forgiveness of God -- reach out for the embrace of your Father, and you’ll discover the child you thought you left behind.