Memory Lane

Year in the Making

A year, as a child, seemed like it took forever to get through. It was time to celebrate Christmas, Thanksgiving and your birthday.  Not to mention to get to the end of the school year…


I’m finding, as I get older, a year passes by in what seems like an instant. We get so caught up in the rat race of working, paying bills and whatever else, we don’t enjoy life as fully as we should.


Why am I writing this post today?


It’s been a year since I got the call that one of my best friends had a health crisis.


As December started I became a little sad because she is not physically here with us anymore. The hurt became even more pronounced when I started clening up old work emails and personal text messages.  I had tons of messages and notes from her and they were always silly.  She called me “Wills” and for the life of me, I forgot why she did that…but it was hilarious.


She loved my guide dog, Gypsy…even when she was watching her and Gypsy shit in her bed. Now that’s a friend!!


We both loved our iPhones and regularly sought out new apps.  This was done so much we called each other app whores.


I started to feel guilty at having enjoyed the past year, minus her loss, and realized that I have many good memories of her and that will last a lifetime.


Today I hit the delete button on the emails and tects but not our friendship…

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Attempting to Walk in the Spirit

Our memories of our youth are typically centered around what we thought were stupid teachers, going on our first “real” date and just making it through high school so we can grow up. My memories of that time do include those things but that’s not the memory that stands out.


I can remember vividly my pastor asking me to stand up at the evening service.


“Bro. Burley is going to preach his first sermon this Wednesday during prayer meeting…”


When I heard that it probably was the first time I cussed in my head at church! I couldn’t believe that this was happening and so quickly.  I think I remember thinking that I wanted to be a preacher from an early age.  It’s hard to tell, in hindsight, if I really did or if I just wanted to make people proud of me.


You see, by that age my mother, sister and I had been apart from my dad for about 4 years. I saw how disappointed people were in my dad…hell, even I was…and I wanted to be as unlike him as possible.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m in no way saying that becoming a preacher was just a way to not be like my father.  I guess what I’m trying to say is I didn’t want to disappoint like he did.


Over the next few days, I went to school, came home and did homework and worked on preparing my sermonette.


Note: A sermonette is a baby sermon that is not performed on Sunday, especially your first one.


My sermon was titled, “Walking in the Spirit.” I wrote every word down and I believe I sounded okay.  It was my first stab at soundeing like a true black southern preacher.  LOL!


I remember, among many things that day, how accomplished I felt and thinking I could be a damn good pastor…


I look back now and truly feel that 15 was way too early for me to be trying to teach someone about life and living it according to the Bible. I only had ideals of how life should work because I hadn’t lived life yet.  When I did get out there and live life and it didn’t always go according to what I heard and taught, I was devastated!  I put on a good face for the world to see but I had disappointed myself…and that was truly worse than letting down anyone else…


To be continued…

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