Sinking Sand/Solid Rock – An Anthology: College #9

College Years – # 9


There I stood on the curb of Highway 66 watching my folks drive away, crying.  Yeah, it affected me a little bit, but I was a grownup now – free as a bird!  I was enrolled in college, had a roommate in F Hall, things were exciting.  I had become a Christian so this was like heaven to me without crossing over Jordan.

It was heaven until I found out that I am me and people are people.  Geological solid rock is not solid in its absolute.  Nothing on this earth is.  Changes in temperature, expansion and contraction, movements deep in the earth all present a non-perfect picture.  It may be solid in comparison to something else, but nothing, absolutely nothing on this earth is perfect in its essence.  There are elliptical flaws or cracks in all rocks.   Even El Capitan of Yosemite National Park expands and contracts leaving slight cracks that some say could cause it to break away a gillion years from now if the creek don’t rise and the Lord don’t come.  I was on The Solid Rock, more particularly, Christ the Solid Rock. There are no flaws in this Rock.  There are no changes in this Christ.   But where was that childlike joy and happiness I knew as a little guy growing up?  Where were those days of purity, hope, innocence, and acceptance?  I thought I would be as a solid rock like my daddy and my mama.

I soon found out that there were kids, people from all walks of life, all backgrounds who were at college.  There were kids who had come from pastors’ homes, bigshots’ homes, blue collar homes, some who had been to another college, some were older having had adult experiences, some who were from alcoholics’ homes, the innocents, the savvy, former military guys, the mature and immature, big, little, great and small.  Everyone brought with them their flaws.  Some had been Christians for a long time and some weren’t Christians at all.  I learned that people are always going to act like people.  For the most part, other than the arrogant and snooty ones, everyone was nice.

Here I was all saddled up and religioned ready, ready to enjoy church college camp or college church camp, whatever.  I was a dry sponge wanting to be liked, wanting to participate, wanting to achieve, wanting to be a part of something.  What I didn’t realize in my 12 year old mind at eighteen was: (a) this was a college, not church camp; (b) this was root hog or die; (c) no one is going to bow down and call me blessed; (d) I was still me with all my flaws, problems, disappointments and stupidities; (e) I was a new Christian, like a newborn baby in everything trying to ambulate through my first few years of life, crying, falling and pooping my communal  and spiritual pants.  Mama was clean, washed and ironed my clothes teaching me to do the same.  F Hall was a piece of you know what, like living in the ghetto.  Two weeks was enough for me.  I needed a job, I thought. [Did I have ADHD?  I don’t know.  Did people even have ADHD back then?] Continue reading “Sinking Sand/Solid Rock – An Anthology: College #9”