The dark shadow of fear threw him into darkness. As Tom Drake sat at his desk, he felt himself gasp for air. And he felt cold. Very cold. Not a terribly religious man, Tom knew the Devil when he met him. And that is exactly who had brought this fear. Well, the Devil and a corporate Vice President. And his dad’s cancer. And….
The list was longer than Tom could process at one time. A tree had fallen on his house the night before during the storm and he could feel his bloodshot eyes trying to focus. And then there was his wife. And his kids. And…
No one was happy in Tom’s life. And at the top of that list was Tom.
Tom gripped his coffee cup like is was a life preserver because he definitely was a drowning man. Pity washed over him like a crashing wave, sending him reeling. His soul tumbled and he once again tried to gasp. A pain hit his chest, sending him out of his chair and onto the office floor.
“You ok?” Carol, his assistant, rushed over to pull Tom off the floor.
Tom, embarrassed, sat back in his chair and apologized meekly, “Um, yeah.”
Reflux. His body was even mad at him. Fear was ripping him physically apart. The Devil grinned. He’d soon have another soul.
“Good morning, Mr. Blake.” It was Barry, the man who came by every morning to empty the trash. “Blessed day we’re having today, isn’t it?”
Tom scoffed. How could a man who emptied the trash be having a good day? Heck, he should be more disgruntled than he was.
“What’s so good about it?” Tom spewed his venom.
But Barry wasn’t buying it.
“We’re above the dirt, Mr. Blake.”
“You can call me Tom, Barry. You’re my elder after all.”
Barry laughed, “Age isn’t a number. It’s what is between here.” He pointed to the space between his ears, “Hey, you got a minute?”
Tom didn’t, but he said, “Sure.”
Barry led him over to the window.
“See all those people?”
Both men stared at all the people on the sidewalk below. It was lunchtime and the streets looked like someone had kicked over a fire ant nest.
“You know how many of them are problem-free?”
Tom shrugged his shoulders, “I dunno.”
“None of them,” Barry said, “In fact, the only people who have no problems are dead.”
Tom thought they were the lucky ones.
“No,” Barry said while almost reading his mind. “You are the lucky one. Fear has knocked on your door and brought you opportunity. But you have to stand up to it, first. Show courage.”
Tom looked out at the people below. Cancer. Financial problems. Disease. Depression. Fear. It was all down there. But they kept going. They kept moving. They stood up to the Devil.
Barry emptied another garbage can. Just like he had Tom’s mind.
“You know, the only person who loves a pity party is the person who is throwing it.”
Tom smiled as Barry walked away. There seemed to be a glow coming off of the old man, but he couldn’t figure out why.
Six months later, Tom’s life had changed radically. He had been laid off. His father died of cancer. His wife and he separated. But Tom didn’t lie down. He kept pushing through the pain. Eventually he got a better job. And he and his wife reconciled. They fixed the foundation of their marriage and joy rendered their household. Tom made time to spend with his kids. He found joy in unexpected places. In return, more joy came his way. Fear continued to visit him, but Tom no longer felt afraid. He faced it head on and it had changed his life forever.
He couldn’t help but think of Barry. How could have a simple man have changed his path so drastically? As he threw football to his son, he laughed. “Sometimes, son, angels show up to empty your trash.”
At 5:30 this morning, I ran about four and a half miles on the Ole Miss campus. The north wind was cutting me in half and burning my lungs. I ran, thinking about my dinner from the night before and my speech that I’ll give in a few hours. I hopped over a curb and headed down a new path, wondering where would take me. What an amazing metaphor for my life.
