Bus Stop

Posted: August 29, 2017 in Uncategorized

I drove by this morning and saw the neighborhood kids waiting at the bus stop. It was dark, and they looked so sad and despondent in the yellow glow of the streetlights.
They were wrapped up in their hoodies.
They were wrapped up in their own little worlds.
They looked like they all really needed a hug, I realized that would be awkward.
There they stood, A hopeless horde, all maintaining a safe distance from each other.
They stumbled around like zombies with backpacks. Most of them were looking at devices so they didn’t have to talk or make eye contact. Several wore headphones. Another indication that they didn’t want to be bothered.
There was an early morning sad funk in the air.
It was only the second day of school.
But, the thrill was gone and reality had kicked them in the gut.
And, at 6:30 am, they were waiting for a bus.
I caught a quick drive by glimpse of their faces.
I’ve seen that mask before.
I’ve worn that mask before.
They were desperately trying to look like they weren’t hurting. They were trying to look cool and uninterested.
They put apathy on like a motorcycle helmet to protect themselves from vulnerability.
They are scared of being known.
They’re just kids that just want to be liked and loved.
And there they were, thrown together with some people that they didn’t like, all just waiting to go somewhere else.

Sound familiar?
We all find ourselves at the bus stop.
We all wrestle with the fundamental HUGE fear of being known. “If people really knew me, would they like me?”
So we put on the familiar mask and keep our distance.
We find ourselves thrown together with people we sometimes don’t like.
Sometimes they throw us UNDER the bus.
We spend our time just waiting to go somewhere else.

Sometimes when I drive by, something (or someone) is different.
I will slowly cruise by and…SHOCKER…I will actually see a kid who is happy to be there!! It’s a kid who views the bus stop as a ticket to adventure and a chance to see their friends.
It’s usually the younger kids.
They haven’t surrendered to the confining culture of cool yet. They haven’t been put in their place by public opinion yet, and so where others see a bus stop, they see a potential party.
I like that kid, I want to stop and give them a high five, but, once again that would be awkward.
It amazing how sometimes the difference between a prison and a possibility is simply perspective.

Life sometimes feels like a bus stop.
You are just waiting and sometimes it’s awkward.
But, it’s not forever.
Eventually the bus will pull up and the sliding doors will creak open…watch your step…take your place (I’ve always preferred the back of the bus). Realize that the ride won’t last forever (unless it’s a greyhound bus ride to Longview, Texas, but I digress). You will eventually get dropped off somewhere that you are expected to learn something.
In the meantime, be brave enough to be yourself and turn the bus stop into a party.


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