Ezekiel
Ezekiel was a beautiful little baby with brown eyes. One day, when he was in his crib, Uncle Ty said, I wonder what he will grow up to be.
When he was five, Uncle Dave said to him, "Hey, Zeke, what do you want to be when you grow up?" "I want to be Superman!" said little Ezekiel. "Superman ain't real, Zeke. You gotta pick somethin' else." "Why?" "Ain't no heroes in this world, Zeke. You gotta fend for yourself. It's a hard world out there, so always, always watch your back." "OK Uncle Dave," said Ezekiel.
One night, when Ezekiel was 7, he lay in bed, listening to Dad and Mama arguing in the kitchen. "What do you mean you lost? You done gambled away all our savings?" "Baby, I know I can win it back. Just lend me a couple bucks." "Don't you start with me Rayquan. I worked hard for that money." "Woman, why you always standing in my way? You never help me with nothing." "You are a disgrace, Rayquan. A disgrace." "Naw, you don't talk to me like that, woman." Dad's tone was menacing. "You heard what I said!" Mama shot back. Ezekiel lay paralyzed, listening to the scuffle. "Get out Rayquan!" "I ain't leaving!" Ezekiel could hear the blow as Dad hit Mama in the face. He heard Mama crumple to the floor. "Aww, shit," said Dad. The door closed behind him as he left.
When Ezekiel was 14, Tyson said, "Hey Z, look at this." He pointed to a purple handkerchief hanging out of his pocket. "I got in." "Shut up man, you ain't no gangster," said Ezekiel. "Dawson said he wants you to come chill with us," said Tyson. "Who, me? How he know me?" "I told him all about you, dude. He says he wants to meet you." This is my moment, thought Ezekiel. "Aight," he said. "I guess I'll come."
"Everyone done did it already Z," said Dawson. "You gonna be born again." "I just don't know," said Ezekiel, looking at the floor. "Look Z, you want respect, you gotta earn it. You want power, you gotta take it. Ain't nobody gonna give you nothing in this world unless you take it for yourself." Dawson looked him in the eye. "Ain't nobody gonna miss that nigger anyways," he said, handing him the pistol.
When Ezekiel was 16, he met Latika. She had smooth, caramel skin and deep, black eyes. Her beauty was like an aura around her, and she was gentle. "Latika, you make me glad to be alive," said Ezekiel. "You make me happy, too, Z," she said, gazing up at him with her starry eyes. "That's why you my girl." She giggled. "My mama says you should come to church with us." "Whatever makes you happy," said Ezekiel.
"And the Word of God says," called Bishop Jeffries, "that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be delivered." "Amen," everyone said. "Whosoever!" "Yes," said the church. "Shall call," he raised his finger in the air. "Upon the name of the Lord-- shall be delivered!" "Yes!" Latika's mom was on her feet clapping. Ezekiel felt uncomfortable. "There is someone here," said Bishop Jeffries suddenly. "Someone, who is perishing in their sins." He paused, and a hush fell upon the church. "There is someone here, oh yes, I feel it in my spirit." He looked around the church. "You are saying to yourself, 'I am too far from God.'" "Oh no, mm-mm," a few answered. "Someone! Is saying to themselves, God has forgotten me." "No, no!" said the church. "Someone is saying! I cannot be forgiven for what I have done." Ezekiel shrunk down in the pew. "What's wrong Z?" whispered Latika. "When's this gonna end?" whispered Ezekiel.
When he was 17, everyone was fighting. "Get down, y'all!" said Tyson. The shots rang out from across the street as they ducked behind a car. "Shit!" said Tyson. Suddenly Denny's Suburu sped down the street with the window down. The Uzi roared at the enemy and the wheels squealed as the car banked around the corner. The street was eerily silent. Latika was curled up in a ball on the street, sobbing. Tyson breathed a sigh of relief. "Damn dude, that was close." Suddenly, a man stepped over them from around the car. He pointed his pistol at Tyson's head and pulled the trigger. The blast from the pistol shook Ezekiel's bones. "This your ho, ain't it?" said Garrett. Latika picked her head up from the ground and looked up at Garrett. "No!" she said. But Garrett discharged two rounds into Latika's head, too. He said, "Tell Dawson I said what's up." and walked off.
Dawson and Ezekiel rode in silence as they cruised through the neighborhood, gripping their weapons. "We gonna find him, Z." Ezekiel didn't answer. He sat still and expressionless, scanning the sidewalks. Suddenly, a figure appeared coming around a corner, wearing a Chicago Bulls jacket. "That's him!" said Dawson. "Blast him!" Ezekiel's blood went cold. He stuck the shotgun out the window and aimed it at Garrett. Garrett stopped, frozen in his tracks.
Suddenly, he felt a Presence in the car. He felt arms around him, holding him, and a breeze blowing across his face. Then he heard a voice. "Ezekiel." The Presence gripped him, and chills ran up his spine. He blacked out and saw a vision. He saw Jesus, nailed to the cross. Jesus looked him in the eyes. "Ezekiel," he said. Suddenly he was back in the car. Garrett was running down the street and turned the corner. "What the hell is wrong with you dude?" exploded Dawson. He turned the corner and stepped on the gas. "Lemme out," said Ezekiel. "What are you talking about?" "I want out. Lemme out of the car." "You ain't going nowhere, dog," Dawson said. "Dawson. I said, let me out!" Ezekiel turned and looked at Dawson. Dawson looked at him in anger. Then the car slowed down and stopped. Ezekiel tossed the shotgun onto the seat as got out of the car. He shut the door, and walked away.
Deep calls to deep at the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and your breakers have gone over me. Ps 42:7
Isaiah
Isaiah was a beautiful little baby with blue eyes. One day, when he was in his crib, Uncle John said, I wonder what he will grow up to be.
When he was five, Uncle Eric said to him, "Hey Zay, what do you want to be when you grow up?" "I want to be a fireman," said little Isaiah. "So you wanna rescue people like your dad, huh?" Isaiah nodded. "Well, people need a lot of rescuing in this world, and there's a lot of fires." He put his hand on Isaiah's shoulder. "You gotta be strong to be a fireman, Zay, so you need to eat your vegetables." "OK Uncle Eric," said Isaiah.
When Isaiah was 7, his father took him to the fire station to meet everyone. "Hey, it's Zay!" they all said. "Hey buddy," said Captain Jacobs, getting down on one knee. He looked Isaiah in the eye. "You wanna ride the firetruck with us?" Isaiah looked at Dad. "Go on, son," said Dad. "Tell Captain Jacobs you want to ride." Isaiah was wide eyed. "Yea!" he breathed. "OK," said Capt. Jacobs. "But first we gotta get you a helmet!" "Wowwww!" said Isaiah. "Sam, I think it'll be too big for him," said Dad. "Hey, what the hell. Hey Jackson, give the kid a helmet." Jackson grabbed a yellow helmet and handed it to Isaiah. On the back it said "Chicago Fire Department." Isaiah sat up front with Captain Jacobs and Dad. They pulled out of the station and onto the street and rode around the block. The engine was noisy. Isaiah was in heaven. "Hey Zay, watch this." Captain Jacobs turned on the siren. All around the truck, the lights reflected off the builings. Isaiah plugged up his ears against the deafening wail of the siren. "Yea!" said Isaiah. They pulled back into the station. "How about that, Isaiah? One day you're gonna be just like your dad over there." "Yes sir," said Isaiah. Dad put his arm around Isaiah. "That's my boy," he said.
When Isaiah was 14, all the trouble started. He and Jeff Radkoff sat next to each other in chemistry class. Jeff had blond hair and blue eyes. He was the quarterback for the middle school football team. Isaiah liked Jeff. Every day he couldn't wait until Chemistry class, and then after it was over, he couldn't wait until chemistry class the next day. One day, he worked up the courage. "Hey Jeff," Isaiah stammered, whispering. "What's up Isaiah." "Do you want to come over to my house some time?" Jeff looked at him quizzically. "Sorry dude, I don't hang out with fags." Isaiah's heart stopped. "What?" he whispered. "I said I don't hang out with queers. I like girls, ok. Shut up man, you're gonna get us in trouble." Isaiah swallowed hard and tried to maintain his composure. "I'm not gay, man," he protested. "Shut up Isaiah, stop talking to me or we're going to get in trouble."
Isaiah spent the rest of the day in shock. At home, after he had finished crying, he lay on his bed looking at the ceiling. "Am I gay?" he asked the ceiling. No, he said to himself. A terrible anxiety gripped him.
When Isaiah was 16, he met Patrick. Patrick had red hair and an earing. He was loud and funny, and they had a lot of the same friends. One day, they were at a Kayla's house, smoking weed in the back. "Hey Isaiah," said Patrick through the smoke. "What's your phone number dude? We should chill some time." "Why?" said Isaiah. "I want to show you something. Just trust me," said Patrick. "OK," said Isaiah.
He rang the doorbell at Patrick's house and waited. After a minute, Patrick opened the door. "Wassup man!" Patrick said. "Come in, do come in. My parents aren't home." They went upstairs to Patrick's room and sat down on his bed. "I know your secret," Patrick said bluntly.
When he was 17, everyone was fighting. "What do you mean, you're coming out?" said Dad in anger. "You saying you're a faggot?" "Dad! This is really hard, ok. Just calm down," Isaiah stammered. "Calm down? I didn't raise you to be no faggot, son! What the hell!" "Honey, calm down," said Mom. "What Isaiah is trying to say is that he's going through a phase." "I'm not going through a phase mom!" Isaiah burst into tears. "I'm GAY, ok? GAY GAY GAY! And I have a boyfriend and his name is Patrick and we've been together for a year now!" "No, son. You're not gay," said Dad icily. He went down the hall. "Dad, where are you going?" "I'm gonna give you some time to rethink this!" Dad called from inside Isaiah's room. "What are you doing?" Isaiah said in desperation. He ran down the hall. Dad had Isaiah's suitcase out and was stuffing it full of random clothes from his drawers. "Dad what are you doing?" Isaiah said in terror. "You're gonna go rethink this, and when you remember who you are, you come back here and be our son." "Dad I don't understand." "Richard, what are you doing?" breathed Mom. "Be quiet honey, it's for the best." "You're not thinking of putting my son out on the street, Richard." "I said be quiet, Matilda. This is not our son. I want my son back." He zipped up the suitcase and reached in the bathroom, grabbing his toothbrush. He shoved it in the front pocket. Then he grabbed Isaiah by the arm and started dragging him to the door. "Hey! Let me go!" protested Isaiah. He squirmed and tried to escape from his father's powerful grasp. "Richard. Stop this instant," demanded Mom. "There's no discussion, Matilda. I want my son back." "Dad stop! Dad I don't want to go!" "Richard, stop it!" shrieked Mom. She ran up and tried to pull Isaiah out of Dad's grip. Dad grabbed her hand and threw her against the wall. "Get off me Matilda! Don't tell me how to raise my son!" "Richard!" Mom screamed in rage. "Richard!" Dad opened the door and threw Isaiah's suitcase outside. He pulled Isaiah up to his face and looked him in the eye. "Don't you come back a faggot, or I'll beat your ass. When you get in your right mind, you come back and be my son." He pushed Isaiah out the door and onto the ground, and slammed the door behind him.
Isaiah dragged his suitcase behind him as he ambled along the street downtown. Finally, he sat down alone at a bus stop and stared at his shoes. Then he looked up to the sky. "God, why did you make me gay?" he said aloud, angrily. Suddenly a man broke his reverie. "No use talkin' to God," he said under his breath. "What?" Isaiah said to him, looking at him. "I said it's no use talking to God. I don't believe in God," the man spoke up. "Well, I do," said Isaiah. "And I want answers!" He kicked his suitcase.
You have said, "Seek my face." My heart says to you, "Your face, Lord, do I seek." Ps 27:10
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