Bethany Briefs
March 2013

Common Sense

by Glenn McCray, Youth Development Director, Urban Impact @ Emerald City Bible Fellowship

I am convinced there is nothing too common about sense.
You see, my moms an immigrant; my pops is illiterate;
they decide to get intimate; at birth, I’m so innocent…
I was brought up in the ignorance; it’s considered legitimate;
now my failure is imminent;
I’m wondering…where are the benefits?
See, I was living life for the hell of it, literally…
And it’s a cycle of a life that I mimic. I wish that I could tell you that my future is vivid, my past, too difficult to revisit,
so I start chasing these gimmicks.
And the more I chase them, the more I find myself imbedded in messages of falsified images, so my image is; tainted, painted with the colors that never seemed to have made it
into the boxes of Crayola.
Because there’s a world out there that believed
before my life even began, it was already over.
So I bought that brand and carried that weight on my shoulders.
And the longer I carried it, the further away it pushed me away from my Father who art in heaven and closer to the ground, where the bar had been pre-set.
And because that’s where I was “supposed to be”
there’s not too much to regret.
It is in that place where I am reminded;
there is nothing too common about sense.
So, I straddle the fence. Because I’m tired of playing in the box that I’ve grown accustomed to.
You see this box (my mind) has confined my very existence and this box (my heart) has shaped the view of my lenses,
and I lose my senses.
My sense of my God-given purpose.
Because I’ve been burned by hell’s furnace
and reluctant to believe that any church service could heal
this hurt surface and to be honest, I’m nervous.
Because I’ve realized that I don’t deserve this…
This life…
This life that I’m walking, this life that I’ve often, taken for granted not using my noggin. Running, when I should be jogging, in this marathon, now my air is gone and I cannot breathe.
And when I try to speak, my mouth is consumed with letters formulating words that are meant to demean.
And I’m praying that everything in between the start of my life and the end of my life will suffice for my afterlife.
See, I haven’t yet mastered life.
But the sacrifice of my master’s life is the reason why I’ve been chasing after him for nearly half my life.
And I’m gonna keep chasing, until the day that we’re facing and he looks at me and says, “Son, job well done.”