Mike

He’s found his way into my thoughts this morning. I can’t imagine why. I certainly wouldn’t have brought him to my remembrance on my own accord. I had other plans for my devotional time with God, but then I read these words from Sarah Young’s Jesus Lives:

“In the presence of a loving, strong father even the most frightened child eventually calms down. You have a perfectly loving, infinitely strong Father, so bring your fears freely to Him.” (Sarah Young, Jesus Lives, Thomas Nelson-2009, pg.28)

And then there he was. A boy named Mike. A boy from my adolescent years. An “unlovely” boy. Smelly, unkempt, poorly dressed, even more poorly mannered. His impulsive behavior and inappropriate responses to those around him quickly labeled him as the “creature” amongst us. Most of us feared him; not because he was overly mean or vindictive in character, but simply because he was different. Mike didn’t fit the high school “norm.” In that season of my life, it was a stretch for me to think of him fitting into any kind of societal “norm.” Mike was the most abnormal boy I knew. I never really saw him as anything more, and I was content with the labels that we had assigned him.

Until that day. The day he rode the bus home with me.

For whatever reason, the bus schedule had been revised. When Mike got on my bus at the end of the school day, we all assumed he’d made a misstep in his afternoon routine. The driver assured us otherwise. Mike would now be on our route for pick-up and delivery. I don’t remember talking to him that day. Most days I avoided him for fear that any interaction between us might signal to him my desire for something further. I do remember smelling him that day, wishing quietly to myself that he had chosen a seat further back on the bus. After what seemed to be forever, the bus stopped on a dusty road, and Mike made his move to the front door.

He exited, and I watched him as he went. Watched him for a long time as he walked along that one-lane path which would eventually land him home—a small farm house barely fit for human consumption. In that moment, I realized something I hadn’t realized before.

Mike had a home. Had a life apart from all the teasing and trouble that followed him throughout the school day. Had a family who loved him, claimed him, and did their level best to support him despite his struggles at being “normal.” The Mike I witnessed everyday at school was only a scratching at the surface of who he really was. There was so much more to this person that I didn’t understand. So much of a life that existed apart from me… a life I would never know, all because I was too afraid to cross the great divide that existed between my world and his.

I wish I could say that Mike and I became friends. We didn’t. I do remember my being more courteous and kind to Mike after that day. Saying hello; waving good-bye, occasionally including him in casual, bus conversation. Mostly, I kept my distance, but now with a little more love and understanding in my heart for him. More grace and more compassion.

I don’t know what happened to Mike. Maybe some of you who shared those days with me do. I’d love an update. But this one thing I do know.

Mike is everywhere. We don’t have to look very hard to find a person who makes a strange fit with our “norm.” The smelly, unkempt are right beneath our noses, within reach and more than ready for some love from someone who has taken the time to imagine them beyond the labels that consume them. Someone who is willing to cross that great divide and offer them the hand of fellowship and the heart of God.

And while my tangible, physical life never cried out for rescue as Mike’s perhaps did, my inward life cried out in accordance with Mike’s voice. For someone willing to cross that great divide and to offer me the hand and heart of sacred fellowship. And because Someone did, I realize that Mike and I aren’t as different as I once thought we were. All of us, every last one of us, are in need of that kind of rescue, friends. All of us need a safe place to run home to—a family who loves us, claims and supports us, most days in spite of us.

God has given us one another to be that body of grace. We are God’s church. A church not based on denomination and regulation, but rather on the one truth that cuts through all the peripheral rest of it to stand alone as the sole requirement for membership into God’s kingdom.

Faith in Jesus Christ. Faith in who he is and in what he has done through his shed blood on the cross.

Jesus is the common thread that links all hearts to home. Perhaps the reason my heart stirred for Mike nearly three decades ago as I watched him exit his school life to embrace his safe life. It certainly is the reason my heart stirs this morning. For all the Mike’s of this world. For those who’ve yet to realize that there is a safe place to land at the end of the day… at the end of this life. And lest we think we’re so far removed from them, all of us at some point in our journeys were the smelly, unkempt, poorly mannered creatures roaming God’s earth in need of God’s rescue.

How thankful I am for the Savior who found me, who bridged the chasm between my great need and his great grace to say “hello” to me and to invite me into the sacred conversation that continues to this day. It’s been a good morning to ride the bus with Jesus, friends. If you’ve yet to climb aboard, there are plenty of seats awaiting your need. As always…

peace for the journey,

~elaine

PS: I will draw a winner to Shirley’s book with my next post. I haven’t forgotten…

37 Responses to Mike

  1. Good morning, friend! My visit with you is a great way to get started today. Your beautiful table is always set, and you somehow know what I need each time.

    You have me thinking about the Mike's I have known in my life. Right now, I am contemplating the barrier I have kept and keep before them. How the exterior of me smiles and reaches, but the interior still tenses and holds my breath.

    Please, Lord, help me to be more like Jesus! To let you tear down those walls I have, for they smell with pride.

    Thank you, dear friend! I love and appreciate you and so need your friendship.

    Andrea

  2. 4th Grade. Charles. Messy, smelly, booger-eater.

    Charles sat next to me, much to my dismay, and I did everything I could think of to distance myself. I was never ugly to him (it's never been my nature), but don't ever remember a distinct act of kindness on my part.

    What if my Jesus had acted the same? Distanced Himself? Imposed His indifference on me and my messy self?

    Thank you, Jesus, that You don't know how NOT to be kind.

  3. What a picture… That was a posting I won't soon forget. WE (I) am Mike… but for God's grace!

    Thanks Elaine, keep writing!

    Sonja

  4. Good morning sweet Elaine, I will keep my thoughts and response short. But, I was a "Mike". My parents did their level best, but in my early years, I was a Mike.

    With love,
    Yolanda

  5. wifeforthejourney:

    A timeless message that reaches back into our past; resonates with our today; and will still be relevant tomorrow. I hope you'll share it with Jadon and Amelia for their "right now" in 3rd and 2nd grade.

    Whether we find ourselves identifying with Mike, with you, with the high school peer groups of "beautiful people," social outcasts, or everyone covering the middle ground – those of us that have found the Lord between then and now usually look back on those days with no small number of regrets. I know I do.

    May we all find that measure of grace we need today, to cover those moments in our lives where we have hurts, have regrets, have shame. We can't have those days back to "do over" – (how many of us would REALLY brave jr. high and high school again?) but because of the grace of God we can find mercy in and for our past.

    I'm glad to have a wifeforthejourney who has eyes to see people and measure their worth according to God's standards, rather than man's.

    Elaine, I'd like to think Mike noticed you were different from everyone else on that bus, because you treated him like he was a person. Dear blog readers, would "Mike" say the same about us?

    Love to you all,
    Billy

  6. Praise Jesus. I'm aboard and welcome anyone to climb aboard who hasn't. Jesus is our comforter and friend. Amen.

  7. I am a teacher and your post reminded me of a student I have. She is very much like MIke and I see students who do very much what you spoke of. Sometimes I wonder why God put her in my classroom only to have him remind me that she needs to see Jesus. OUch! So I hug her and try and look beyond the outside to her heart and ask Jesus to help us treat her like a wonderful person. It is not always easy but I know this is what God wants me to do.

    Blessings on you today.

  8. The Mike of my childhood was a girl named Karen. I remember feeling sorry for her, but never knowing how to reach out. Then my parents moved me to the mission fields of third world countries and I realized the world is full of Karens. It just seems more glamorous to cross the ocean to minister to someone. As someone who has seen both sides of the waters, I needed this little reminder. Thank you.

  9. The "Mike" from my high school years was named "Ronnie". I sometimes wonder what happened to him too and why he was like he was; what his home life was like to make him like that. I wasn't mean to him but neither did I try to talk to him.

  10. Elaine,

    You post touched me and brought to mind many "Mikes" who's path crossed mine…

    Joe, Kim, Brenda…. and others. I had always had a compassion for these classmates. We never became friends, but I always showed them kindness. Brenda… lived in the tiniest house I had ever seen. She rode our bus. My sister and I would always invite her to sit with us on the bus. She always did, but never spoke. My heart always ached for her because she seemed so sad, and the tiny house she lived in looked so run down. I always wondered what went on behind the walls of that little house. I hoped she had some happiness.

    Joe, an overweight 4th grader who was as obnoxious as the day is long. Kim, who just never really fit in. So many others.
    My family teases me because I hate seeing someone (especially and elderly person) eating alone at a restaurant. My heart aches and I always say a prayer that they have someone to love and someone to love them. Loneliness is an awful feeling/situation. Perhaps I felt so much compassion because even in my world of friends and sports I was a lonely little girl. A product of divorced parents who felt all alone in the world! Alone, as I knew no one going through the same situation I was in at the time. I was the first of my friends to have divorced parents.

    I pray that the Lord used me in some way to show His love for these children of His.

    As always… your posts touch my heart to it's core. I am thanking the Lord today for your beautiful heart and the gift He has given you to put it to paper!

  11. There are "Mikes" everywhere. I wonder how many of them I have passed over or even, God forgive me, been rude to? Jesus loves them just like He loves me.

    Great post, Elaine.

    Leah

  12. In Rick Joyners books on his time spent in heaven, he talks about a homeless man that he met here on earth. The homeless man is now seated next to Jesus in heaven. Did he preach to thousands, or even hundreds? No. Was he involved in a Christian ministry? No. He lived in a cardboard box. But in his humble home, he put Jesus front and center. And now he's sitting right next to Jesus.

    May we all pay attention to the 'Mike's of this world, for they are God's anointed ones.

  13. Greetings Mrs. Elaine:)

    Your story is moving, Elaine. I want to be able to move past my own fears and be able to reach out more to people who need it. I want to be wise about it too, so I need discernment in this. Jesus is the One Who took me from a miserable existence and gave me a hope to live for. Praise HIM!

    Blessings,

    katiegfromtennessee:)

  14. I am amazed at how often our thought patterns are running somewhat parallel! Don and I watched American Idol last night, and there was one thing that kept standing out to me…that I always lost thought in: No matter the person…how badly they dressed…how strange their behavior…how badly they sang…when they walked out that door, rejected and dejected, there was almost always family there waiting outside the door to hug on them and support them. Someone loved them.

  15. Elaine, this was so good. It struck a chord deep within me. Thank you.

    Marilyn

  16. I knew several "Mikes" growing up. My heart did go out to them, and I usually would talk..but only a little. Now, when I see a "Mike" at school when I'm subbing, I make sure to let him/her know that I care for them. Wonderful reminders, sweet friend.

    Hugs,
    Susan

  17. Mine was William. He had buck teeth and some sort of ear drainage condition that smelled to high heavens! He dressed poorly, and was even unkempt by most standards.

    You know, come to think of it, don't WE ALL look & smell that way to the holy Sovereign of Creation? Thank God the sweet aroma of His grace (salvation), has rendered my blackened, smelly, unkempt heart as sweet as baby's breath, and William's too!

    This was a very touching, authentic post, Elaine. Who amongst us can read it and be un-touched, un-moved. Beautiful!

    Kathleen

  18. Sucha VERY VERY powerful post, And yes, there are SO many Mikes out there, longing to not be seen as abnormal. Thank you.

  19. Wow Elaine. That was powerful and it stirred up many memories for me. Never unkind but never engaging. I always kept my distance.

    Thank you for these words. They are a wonderful reminder to go out of our way to include others.

  20. I loved your analogy and example for this post! Excellent because Mike is relatable. You are so right.We all have our Mikes in our backgrounds and around us now and we were once a Mike too.
    Graet post!

  21. There are so many "Mikes" in the world. And in reality, there are times when we all feel like we are "Mike" I loved this post Elaine. It is so amazing to me that we have such a hard time understanding there is neither Jew or Gentile, but we are all one Body of Christ. Jesus is the thread that binds us all together. Faith in His blood made us all the same and then united us to Him and to each other. As we understand the depth of that, we will respond to the "mikes" of the world so differently.

  22. Wow! You're an awesome writer. I loved this post and it hit home in so many areas. May God bless you for blessing me.

    Glad I dropped by this evening.

  23. Good food for thought, Elaine. And I'm thinking… And I'm also so very thankful for a Savior who bridged the chasm. Oh, to become more like Him!

  24. Elaine, I read that same reading this morning. It spoke to me in so many depths because of my daily, constant struggle with fear. I so appreciated how Sarah wrote, "it isn't easy to break free from fearfulness." It isn't easy…but it is possible.

    When I read the sentence you quoted above, I asked the Lord to help me grasp that truth. If only I could live moment by moment embracing that truth. If only I could live conscious of His presence with me at all times.

    Thanks for the memories of a bus ride. I too am travelling my own journey. It's sweeter with a friend.

    Love & prayers,
    Joy

  25. Another great post! I've missed coming by.

    It's always a treat for me.

    I'm so grateful for all the "Mike's" God has placed in my life.

    I'm also grateful for all those times people reached out to my son who rode in the handicap bus, and was in special ed all his life…

    Such a touching post, thanks Elaine♥

  26. In my childhood (third grade), it was Thelma. She smelled, she was dirty, and her clothing was worn.

    Unfortunately, I was not kind toward Thelma. I ignored her. To this day I regret my actions.

    Father, thank you so much for taking me – dirty and smelly – and washing me white as snow. Help me to see others through YOUR eyes…not my own.

    A very thought-provoking post, Elaine!

  27. My mom was a "Mike." Disabled, mentally and physically…loud, never speaking at the right time with the right word, smoking outside the church after the service, using food stamps at the store. And I remember every single person who treated her (and us kids) with kindness. Most were inside the church, and it made an abundant difference in my life.

    There's a "Mike" at my grocery store…greasy hair, goofy countenance, a bit "slow." But he always perks up when I chat with him about his day. And somehow it perks me up too.

    Yes, my sister, the Lord gave you the mic today to lend Godly wisdom to all who will hear. Thank you.

  28. "All of us need a safe place to run home to—a family who loves us, claims and supports us, most days in spite of us."

    Ever grateful for those in my family (my Christ family) who I have yet to meet in person but who have walked a path of prayer with me. Thank you, Elaine, for praying of late for my family. God's grace was felt in the midst of such pain.

    May I learn to see beyond the obvious and be the "welcome" that Christ calls me to be.

    Shalom,
    Denise

  29. What to do about the "Mike's" in my life?

    How to reach out to them? How to love them? How to show grace and mercy?

    These questions overwhelm me tonight.

    Jesus, help me. Help me to love like You love. I can't love like that on my own.

    Thank you, Elaine. Once again, you've caused me to pause and to contemplate important truth.

    Sweet dreams.

  30. Wonderful post. What we do to the least of these… Right? The Lord is good and brought Mike to your mind for a reason. Thank you for sharing the reminder with us, too.

    hugs,
    Donna

  31. Hi Elaine. How so very true. I am challenged. God is calling us to shed his love abroad and loving the unloved can sometimes seem so difficult. That's for reminding me of this.

    Blessings

  32. We had quite a few of them down our hollow. This post touched me, Elaine, as it has me remembering. The best we can do is to teach our children to love. I pray your Mike found some happiness.

  33. Wow, what a post. Oh the names and faces this brings to mind… Randy, Ronnie, Samantha, Bruce, Fayetta…some of these people I haven't thought about in years. In my elementary years, I sought to befriend kids like that, but as I grew older, I pulled away fearing rejection from the other kids. Breaks my heart.

    How grateful I am that Jesus doesn't look on our outward flawed packages…oh, to be more like Him.

    So grateful you shared about Mike.

  34. What a great blog — I just found it. When I read your profile and saw the words Wilmore, KY, I knew I had to comment. I have one son there right now and another graduated from Asbury College in 2005. Sweet little town and great college. I'll be back to read more.

  35. I read the latest post, but couldn't find the comment section. I love the "over-easy" theme. Why is it so hard to hand things over to Jesus? It feels so freeing and wonderful to lean on Him!

  36. I couldn't comment on the last post either Elaine – I'd like over easy eggs today too!

    I had a Mike on my school bus growing up too. His name was George though… Every one is God's child and I am so thankful that there is always room on His bus!

    Blessings and love to you,
    Lora

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