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Topic: Favoritism (02/28/05)
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TITLE: Chosen: Picked at Last | Previous Challenge Entry
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Daily torture came in many ways, both at home and at school. Don’t slouch. Look at me. He dreaded recess time because Herbert knew that when it came time for captains to choose teams, he would inevitably be grudgingly taken after even the most uncoordinated, injury-prone kid had a spot. Herbert detested any type of group work since he knew he would have to be placed somewhere by the teacher. The students said he talked funny. That didn’t mean he was stupid like they thought. Then there were those who acted like he didn’t exist. Sometimes, he wondered himself. Kids could be so cruel.
By high school, Herbert was bigger than most of his teachers. No, he couldn’t shoot hoops. With his size 15 feet it was all he could muster to not trip while walking down the hallway, much less dribble down the court. Adolescence was not kind to him, saddling him with a festering case of acne and a severe overbite that years of orthodontics had yet to improve. God sure wasn’t cutting him any breaks.
Speaking of God, Herbert had a bone to pick with Him. Wasn’t church supposed to be a place of refuge? Then why was he still hearing the snickered comments and feeling people stare whenever he walked by? Why did he still feel like an outcast in the house of God, where he had heard his Nana say before she died that she always found solace? Yet, after seven weeks, not one person had asked Herbert to join them at the weekly luncheon after worship. He often ate standing alone by the back door, a quick escape route when feelings of loneliness overwhelmed him. People carefully avoided him in worship. That greet your neighbor was the worst. Plastic smiles and phony voices-Herbert knew them well. He was hungry for acceptance, but no one would look beyond the exterior to see what kind of person he was. This left Herbert feeling extremely depressed.
In his seventeen years on earth, Herbert could think of no one who would miss him were he gone; certainly not his mom with her new husband and sons, all of whom were handsome and athletic.
On the night that Herbert decided to die, he went into his room and picked up his dusty Bible, sarcastically daring God to give him one reason to live. Randomly flipping through scriptures, Herbert’s eye fell upon these words: When my father and mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up (Psalms 27:10, KJV). Not believing his eyes, he began at the beginning of Psalms and drank in the Word. Psalm 8:4-5 ministered to his heart. “What is man, that thou art mindful of him? And the son of man, that thou visitest him? For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour” (KJV).
Herbert was astounded. God thought about him. Him! Herbert Oscar Goodwin was on God’s mind. Amazing! Herbert figured he’d give God a chance. He was afraid to trust; terrified to hope, but decided to read more before shooting himself with his step-father’s service revolver.
Herbert sat up all night reading, starting with the Gospels. Nicodemus’ story set Herbert to thinking. By the time he completed Romans, suicide was no longer on his mind. Dying without Christ and burning in hell was. Bleary-eyed and weary of spirit, Herbert happened upon James 2:1-6, with verse 5 bringing him to his knees: Hearken, my beloved brethren, Hath not God chosen the poor of this world rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom which he hath promised to them that love him? Herbert didn’t know how to love and trust God, nor did he have much faith, but he knew he wanted to be chosen by God. Herbert knew he couldn’t experience that were he to commit suicide.
Seven years later, Herbert is content with who he is and is still on the battlefield for his Lord. He had been chosen at last.
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