Same Old Shawn

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Today my brother told me that he saw someone we used to know. Shawn. I was 13 when I moved to Shawn's neighborhood. He was different than I was. He and the kids in his group dressed in cool clothes- 501, pegged Levi's, high tops, and black rock shirts(sometimes shredded) the guys had long hair and some wore eye liner. And lots of silver necklaces, crosses, rings. They also wore Levi jackets with band patches on the back. They didn't care what anybody thought. I was sort of like that too.


I remember the first time I went to Shawn's house in the alley around the corner from where I lived. I followed him into his room which he shared with his brother and that was where I was first introduced to heavy metal. He had old Ozzy, Black Sabbath, and Metallica records. I remember their eerie covers and thought, in a way, that they were cool. I typically listened to pop music- Prince, Cyndi Lauper, Madonna- whatever was popular on the radio. I was so ready to embrace this new, dark music. It reflected the way I was beginning to see the world. Instantly I wanted to be like my new friends and listen to their music. It felt exhilarating and powerful.  A whole new world was opening up to me. One that I felt like I fit in with, a place where I "belonged".  I'd stay there for many years-in that life. There's a song that reminds me so much of that time and of Shawn and the others-Round and Round by Ratt-if I were to hear it now, I'd be 13 again, right back on those streets where I changed. And such a sad and strange nostalgia comes over me...has it really been 25 years?? Who was that girl? Was that really me? Sometimes I wish I could go back and warn her.


 I continued to hang out with Shawn for awhile and went out with his friend. Not a good choice. The friend came and went, but Shawn was still around, dealing with me and my broken heart. This guy (his friend)  pushed me down in the street a short time later, and I ended up with a concussion and lost my memory for a couple of hours. A few days after that, Shawn got into a fight with him outside of the skating rink and  actually stabbed him. It wasn't too serious. Somehow he didn't get caught and the guy was ok. I wasn't there, but he told me he did it for me.


 Shawn really wasn't all that "cool" and I felt somewhat sorry for him. I think he had it pretty rough at home. Eventually we moved and a  few years later I'd see him around once in awhile. He seemed like the same old Shawn. Always having to try to appear tough.


Today when my brother told me that he ran into him on the street after all these years, all the memories came flooding back in an instant. Shawn told my brother he had just gotten out of prison after 7 1/2 years and was nicknamed "Rage"- I can probably guess why. He asked about me and my brother told him that I was doing "good". Not sure how much detail he gave, but I do hope he told him that I'm a Christian now.


There but for the grace of God, go I.


 I cringe to think of what my life would be like today, if God had not come into it. Being a Christian does not mean that I have a perfect life, that I don't struggle or have issues. What it does mean is that I have a Friend who is always by my side. When I don't feel like I fit in anywhere, He always gives me a place to belong. A whole new world opened up to me when I met Him.


For all the Shawns in the world- for all the JoHannas still out there...pray for us.



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