The Railroad Man

Thirst overwhelms me as I watch the blur from the heat swirl and bend the steel before my eyes. Distant tracks waver and dance, distracting me from the task at hand. I have abandoned the thought of cooling off, and my only desire is to feel the slow burn of iced water in my throat; how great it would be to take it in right now.

A steam engine rolls to my right, wrenching and filling the air with its soot. Like a ghastly beast it carries its quarry to distant destinations and belches out steam as it passes by. Not only do I see it, but I feel its vibrations; like small earthquakes but all resonating from these coal-filled cantankerous behemoths as they stomp their way through the mine fields of metal.

This is my lot, to tend the railyards and track the laborious cargo to points unknown. Among the supplies and rations are soldiers from a distant land, frightened and in shackles; much like us but their blonde hair and blue eyes give them away.

A twinge of guilt fills the pit of my stomach, but this is my destiny. While soldiers storm the hills in treacherous battle and risk their lives, I tend the tortuous fields of gravel and heat to do my small part. They say my job is essential, that future success in this war relies on my grit, sweat, and faithfulness to my job. But still I wonder.

Off into the distance the steam train winds and sways and moves onward to the next mass of essential workers. My day is nearly done. But the morning will bring a new set of rattling cars, the reality of a distance war, and the bittersweet sensation of a job well done.

Grace in the form of a beautiful figure greets my greasy visage at the door with a glass of cold, clear water. A warm meal simmers on the stove. Sleep comes quickly; the long day of toil drifts away like clouds of steam.

Golden Years?

Most days are the same. The morning dreams come in rapid succession and often, but the waking result is the same…sore back, cracking bones, and slow movements through the haze. Coffee is the first refuge of daylight.

Looking back through the past is a journey of pain, triumph, and joy. But in these later years the losses cast a shadow that make the joys of forgotten days seem like miniscule victories; like a bitter pill that must be taken every morning with a little milk.

The decision to wake up each day and still feel that the world will change because of your contributions is the smoke and mirrors that keep us moving forward. The ability to put on a tie, produce a clean-shaven face, and tackle a world dominated by youth is an act of shear bravery.

As I watch the young, I view them with pity sometimes. Many of their hardships and sorrows are ahead of them…saying goodbye to loved ones, a failure at work, financial hardships that take a piece of joy out of their future hopes and dreams. Many have never faced hardship, but it is coming for them all.

Old men sit on porches and pontificate because they've earned the right to do so. Yet, I do not envy them. All they can talk about is what came before them and how things have changed…mostly for the worst. They are watchers of the world; their days of being movers and shakers have come and gone.

Then I see those that wake up with the same creaky bones. Who continue to serve each day in their 70s, 80s, and even longer. Those unique souls should not be the exception but the rule. I want to be like them, at least in spirit. As the years approach, I do not want to see it as the beginning of the end, but a continuing chapter of difference-making.

Yet, these achievements may look quite different in the glimmering and fading twilight. They might include sharing the stories of overcoming great disappointment and sorrow, leading the way for the next generation by handing off the experiences that were both a blessing and a curse to our humanity.

There is much work left to do. I will not board the ship that sails blindly into the sunset. Not yet.

The best may still be yet to come.  

The Tearing Away

When a place has been your home for so long, it does its best to stick close to you. It becomes part of the air you breathe, intertwined with your movement, motion, and daily routines.

When the time comes to journey onward it is easy to linger, to gaze at the familiar, even as the pain of loss grabs hold of you and seeks to keep you in perpetual limbo.

When the day approaches, it is best to rip the band-aid off and experience the pain all at once, for it will continue to eat at you and raise feelings of regret to the surface if you mull over what could have been.

When the move is underway, and the wind is at your back, do not look in the rear-view mirror, but keep your gaze on the open road, for that is where the possibilities are crystal clear.

When the newness shows its face, and confusion tries to grab hold of you and paralyze your every step, take a deep breath and know that a promising path is under your feet.

When the confusion subsides and the new world comes into view, do not long for the days of old, for they are no more. Close your eyes and feel the sun shine on the promises that have opened up to you, and know that a brighter future is one that you create piece by peace.

The Promise

All we have sometimes is the promise of the future;
The promise that there is more around the next corner.
 
The lure of the new entices us and lulls us out of our sleep;
We wake up to a new place, a new purpose, and a new set of priorities.
 
Sometimes our hearts need the jolt of the paddles;
To feel alive again and to know that our blood pulses with purpose.
 
The dusty roads that we leave behind are drenched in our sorrow and sweat;
The memories that we made will have to sustain us as we see the hill rise over the next curve.
 
New memories await as we traverse the miles and envision the tasks that pull us forward;
Familiar patterns will follow us as well – there is truly nothing new under the sun.
 
Soon we will be surrounded with the clutter and chaos of a new residence;
And in not so many days it will be resonating once again with mundane and familiar routines.
 
Past obstacles and bittersweet memories will join us for the journey;
Yet the way forward has been chosen and turning back is not an option.
 
When opportunities show themselves we must entertain them, for life does not offer that many;
We must pursue dreams with all diligence for they are the cultivated creations of a life well-lived.
 

Redemption

Life is a series of redemptions, if you live long enough to see them resolved.

Redemption = You can go back home again.

In middle and high school I was awkward, anti-social, and never seemed to get traction. I felt the same in college, but started to hit my stride my senior year and into my first year of teaching. I felt like the butt of everyone’s joke. Like they had it all together, but I was continually fumbling in the dark. This year I go back to my 35^th high school reunion as a professor of education. Here’s to that awkward, lanky, fumbling kid in the 80s. Maybe all that striving and pushing myself has paid off in my ability to produce teachers that see the beauty in those awkward lost souls.

Redemption = You can be a leader with the skills and vulnerabilities that you own.

In my first few years of teaching (in the same school where I was a clumsy middle schooler), there was a constant struggle between my newness, lack of confidence, and the disconnect between my educational ideals and the reality of the students I taught. Yet in my 4^th year, I was awarded Teacher of the Year. I struggled with ADHD and was not sure if I could be a teacher that lived with a confused and disorganized mind. But I kept going. After 18 years of teaching, I was denied a promised job at an education service center, but 8 years later taught a workshop at that same center. Leaving my high school job eventually led to a teaching position at a STEM-focused school, which directly led to my first job at the university level. Pain and growth were involved in all those transitions, but now my educational career has come full circle.

Redemption = You can give and receive love again.

In its 20^th year, a marriage ended that consumed all my strength, time, energy, and resolve. I felt like a complete failure, like I had ruined any possibility of being happy; that I did not deserve a second chance. Then I met my wife, who loved me even though I was living at my mom’s house and driving a mini-van. She saw a diamond in the rough. She helped me believe that I deserved much more, loved me for who I was, and followed my every step as I re-grew the courage to earn it all back. Now we will face new adventures, and she is still by my side.

Redemption = You can find the career of your dreams or build a new one.

In high school and college, I always loved learning, but never felt like the smartest one in the room. After earning my master’s degree, a few years later I took on the brazen adventure of earning my doctorate. Even after becoming a professor, I had much to learn but I never gave up. After 8 years, I thought my career as a professor was over. Deprived of the chance to apply for tenure at one university, I have the privilege and opportunity to earn my stripes at a new one. To show the world that even at 53, I have skills and years of experiences that I can bring to the table. I am excited to prove that I was destined to be a professor; it is my legacy and my mark on the world.

Redemption = You can discovery joy in life apart from religion.

In various ways, I have been fortunate to exhibit my love of music: serving as a music minister, performing in high school marching band, singing in church choir and as a soloist, and playing trumpet in a junior college stage band. It always seemed my life journey went hand in hand with my love for music, especially in the church. Then my divorce changed all that. After leading worship in a conservative congregation, I was told by judgmental religious folks I could no longer be a music leader. This event and many others led me away from the church. I fear I will never return. But my love for music continues as an avid collector of physical media and as a music enthusiast. Maybe I will even pick up a trumpet again someday. Music continues to be a major focus of my life, but I no longer feel the need to connect it to any religion. I now love music for its own sake.

In every phase of my life, redemption reveals itself in small and subtle ways. Sometimes second chances become third and fourth chances. But the power of redemption is the fuel that drives me forward. When I have nothing left to prove, I will be ready to retire; ready for the scrapheap of history. Someday I will arrive in that glorious moment when I have nothing left to show the world. Only then can I feel the right to take my eternal rest. Until that time comes, work must be done. Redemption must be paid forward to future generations. I strive every day to teach those who will come after me that one’s work is never complete until all the regrets of life have been discovered, uncovered, and resolved.

Redemption is a gift you give to yourself.