When I left home

When I left home I knew that I would not return there to live. Somehow, I knew in the back of my mind that it was the best thing I could have ever done. I left a place I had known for twenty nine years of my life. There were so many memories and so many reasons as to why I should leave. I said goodbye to my immediate family, whom I had distanced myself from during most of my life there. I was alone. It was strange, yet difficult to just up and leave. If I would have stayed my life may have taken a turn for the worst. I cannot answer that now, but I do know that I am much better off than I was prior to leaving home. I don't call it home anymore. I have a new home where I have embraced the concept of family. I struggled at first, but I learned to adapt and overcome situations that were out of character for me. I had to learn to crawl, then walk again.

The next day

The following morning began by having breakfast at a local restaurant. Good thing it was an all you can eat breakfast buffet because I was ready to eat something with substance besides the cereal bars and fast food we had been eating during most of the trip. Bacon and eggs sounded real good right about then. After having stuffed ourselves with real food we headed back to New Orleans via the Lake Pontchartrain causeway. I knew my eyes would see much more than they had the night before due to darkness being upon us then. As we drove across the causeway I took pictures of anything and everything that would substantiate our visit to this devastated place. This event will forever remain a part of our nations history and I was getting a first hand look at it. Once we arrived back in to New Orleans we took more pictures. What we saw seemed unreal. As we drove through communities large trees lay uprooted in yards and streets. Some trees were laying against houses with the roofs caved in. Piles of debris were stacked at nearly every house and street corner. Many of the homes were marked with spray paint to notify anyone who entered that a death or deaths had occurred.

A long way from home/the mission begins

There are only three other occasions where I left home. The first time was back in 1990 when I joined the Ohio Army National Guard at the vulnerable age of nineteen. On October 10, 1990 I became a soldier. I joined the service out of duty to my country and in honor of my father, who passed away the previous year. He was a soldier too. I turned twenty years old ten days after leaving for basic training. That was at Ft. Dix, New Jersey, which was right next to the Atlantic ocean. Sadly, I did not take the opportunity to see this vast coastline. I was away from home for four and a half months. The second time came when I moved to Kentucky for a short period and lastly to northern Ohio on July 3, 1999. I'd never been away from home no more than a weekend. When I left for Louisiana I wasn't sure when I would be home. I knew I wasn't going to stay as long as I did on any of the previous trips. At times, I struggled with the thought that I abandoned my wife and children. I wanted them to be proud of me. I did not want to let them down. I felt guilty at times for all the other times I had let them down. I was there to support my family and be a part of what Jesus called the great commission. If anyone wanted experience in the mission field this was a field ready for harvest. Everywhere we stopped I would place bibles, tracks and small, pocket size crosses. Truck stops and gas stations were hot spots for ministry. I was honored to be a part of something greater than me.

Lake Pontchartrain causeway

Ah yes, Lake Pontchartrain. This lake has been the end for some and the beginning for others once they left New Orleans for safety before,during and after Hurricane Katrina's landing. Its name has been used in many a song. It was created around three thousand years ago, give or take a few hundred years or more. Its depths are much shallower than I once thought. Water levels reach anywhere from twelve feet to sixteen feet. It is forty miles wide and twenty four miles long. I was a bit surprised actually. It was difficult to get a clear view of the landscape during the night. After leaving New Orleans the causeway was the last thing in my mind when we reached the other side of the bridge. While crossing the bridge I was slightly terrified that the weakened structure would collapse while we were on it. I thought to myself, what a way to go, drowning after falling into the lake. I thought the end was ever so near. I was anxious to get to the other side as quickly as possible. I couldn't wait to hit land. Lord just get me safely to the other side, I whispered under my breath. Yes, it was all in my head. If the bridge wasn't safe enough to cross it would have been closed off. I concluded in my mind that the construction barriers, barrels and caution tape made me a bit nervous. If it were not for the fact that all I could see was water in the middle of the night I might have been more at ease.

Within a child's eyes

Within a child's eyes
there is something that innocently replies
through the wind their tender thoughts are hurled
Oh, save our children from this wicked world
I am in awe of children's delicate fellowship
from the living fountain I sip
an angel did descend on their playground of laughter
and the promise of Heaven did follow after
God drew the bolt on nature and it's secrecies
As I wept with Heaven
It's tears did fill the land and seas
save our children from the snares of the enemy
just spend a little more time with me
blowing bubbles in the wind
I don't want the day to end
chasing geese in the park
put me safely to bed when it is dark
Turn off the T.V.
and read a book to me
protect me from what's out there
love me, guide me, show me that you care
can we go for an ice cream?
when I sleep happy thoughts will I dream
Oh child of mine, say your prayers before you go to bed
let thank you Jesus be the last words you said.

Rest for the night

Once we crossed the bridge into Slidell we drove around for about forty minutes until we found a place to rest. We could not afford to stay anywhere other than in the van. We came to a rundown hotel. Naturally, it was vacant at the time. We pulled in the parking lot and looked around the place before we decided it was time to rest. Scott drove the whole entire trip and I knew he was weary. I just enjoyed the scenery and took a nap here and there on the way down. While he fell asleep in the drivers seat I got out to make a phone call to my wife to let her know I made it. I then came back to the van and found a somewhat comfortable spot on the rear floor of the van. There wasn't much room to get too comfortable due to the shelving and tools in the van. I've slept on much worse surfaces. I didn't care. I was so tired that pavement would have been comfortable.

Crossing the bridge

After two months New Orleans still looked as if it had been hit by devastation only days before. The waters had receded, but it left debris scattered in every direction you could see. Homes were vacant and dilapidated. There was not a soul to be found. It was as if a tornado had hit. That was the only thing I could compare it to. It looked like a war zone and we were on the front lines. As we drove across the bridge reality began to sink in. This was definitely something bigger than I could have ever imagined.
As we crossed the bridge linking New Orleans to Slidell I noticed that there were only two lanes. Apparently the bridge took a big hit as well. I thought to myself, this must have been some powerful force to be able to damage a concrete bridge.

Hurricane Katrina continued

You know, it was exciting because I have read and heard about Louisiana through books and movies, especially New Orleans. I tried not to let my mind get the best of me and I wanted to stay focused on the real motive for why I was going to Louisiana, financial prosperity. Who wouldn't in my line of work! This was no vacation, but yet at the same time it was like a dream come true. Now that I look back on the experience it seems so far away like a childhood memory.
On the way down our second stop was in good ole southwestern Ohio. We were in my part of the country. As we drove past the exit I usually got off to go to my hometown of Hamilton, Ohio I thought how it would be great to stop in and see my friends and relatives, but I knew time was precious. We got to Cincinnati and stopped for food,fuel and nature. It took about four and a half hours to get that far, about 275 miles to be exact. Our next stop was in Kentucky. Yeah, I have relatives there too. And no, we didn't stop to see anyone. There was no time for anything but eating,refueling and restroom breaks. Not necessarily in that order either. This was pretty much our routine during the whole trip. I'm sure you've guessed that by now.
In all, it took eight stops for the necessities and fuel, eighteen hours and one thousand miles to reach our destination. It was around midnight the next evening that we arrived in the now not so glamorous city of New Orleans. You could smell the funk from the mold and trash piled up on the curbs. I never saw anything like it. There were vehicles piled up everywhere we looked. You could see the waterlines on the houses and vehicles where the water level had reached. It felt like the end of the world and all was chaotic. We drove around for about a half an hour dazed and lost until three police cruisers and a military vehicle pulled up on us. They had their weapons drawn while asking us for identification. They had told us that Marshall Law had been declared upon the entire state. The fact that New Orleans was notorious for murders was an incentive to leave immediately. There was also a curfew of 8:00 p.m.. Of course, we weren't aware of that. I guess we should have done a little bit more research before we left. I think we were just in shock at the whole experience thus far. We had no idea as to what we were getting ourselves into. After our run in with the police and the military we left there in a hurry. Once we got back on track we headed north for Slidell, Louisiana by way of the Lake Pontchartrain bridge.

Bound for Louisiana

It took much time with my wife to discuss the trip to Louisiana. It was about four weeks to be exact. During that that time I saw news clips and stories in the headlines on a regular basis. This lured me even more so to do something. I wanted to help those people in Louisiana. That fact alone convinced my wife and I that I must go. I invited a friend of the family who also happened to be my boss at the time. His Name was Scott DeVore. I worked for him as a general laborer in the area of shingle roofing, which is why we were going down to Louisiana in the first place. I would have left already if it weren't for him debating over and over in his mind if he was going to go or not. But that was okay, this was not an easy decision to make. He too, had children he was leaving behind. His daughter was my wife's niece. That's how I came to know him. Once he made the decision to go we met with his pastor and he connected us to a church in Louisiana where we would stay once we arrived. I had the pastor of our church pray for me and my family. I said goodbye to my wife and children the day before I left, packed what I needed for the trip, made phone calls and prayed. Yes, I prayed. After all, the final destination was only around a thousand miles away and we were driving an older model van. We left at 3:30 a.m. in the morning toward the end of October. It was raining hard and heavy that morning, a little preparation for the weather down south I suppose. I had $35.00 in my pocket and I knew that wouldn't get me far. We were headed to no man's land, strange and unfamiliar territory. Scott and I were both stepping out of our comfort zones no doubt.
Our first stop was somewhere in Northeastern Ohio for a gas fill up before we hit the road. I knew in the back of my mind that this trip was going to be more than I had envisioned. I was excited, yet, at the same time I was doubtful of my decision to leave. One might ask, Did I make this choice out of desperation? Am I going to let my family down? I thought, man if this doesn't work out financially I will have made my wife and I look like fools again. It would be another embarrassing and shameful mistake on my part. I just put it in someone else's hands, if you know what I mean. Prosperity wasn't happening on the home front and I had nothing to lose. Or so I thought.

What works for me

I tried the atheist view. I've tried the satanist view and last but not least, I have tried the religious view. Neither of them worked for me. I knew there was something better out there, for me that is. How dare I share my thoughts on anything? There might be a sniper out there in computer world wanting to take me down and shred my beliefs because he disagrees with my thinking. I might get corrected from time to time too. I don't have time to waste debating on who is right or wrong. Life is just too short for such things. I just know what works for me. Though it may sound contradictory in terms God found me. And he worked for me, not the preacher man, but God himself. I didn't want religion. I wanted to know the one who created me, who gave me life. I wanted to know him more. I wanted a relationship with him not the church. Anyway, you get it by now I'm sure. During my very interesting journey I've had to die to self. You know , self seeking, selfish, don't care about anyone else......selfish motives, what's in it for me? I don't want praise for anything, but results in my life and someone else's. Actions speak louder than words don't they? If you want to win the race, do what you do best. Do what you know you are called to do and do it with the best of your ability. Go on, I dare ya!

Prior to leaving for my trip to Louisiana I had received several calls from a cousin wanting to give me an opportunity to come down there and work for him. When I heard of this I related it to the dreams I had three years before. At the time I was looking for work and it seemed like a good time to go. I knew I had to discuss it with my wife first. I wasn't sure how she would respond. We talked about it and looked at every aspect of me being gone for an indefinite time. It would be the first time I would be away from my wife and children, which was the most difficult issue I had to face. I knew that I needed to work and the job market wasn't looking too good in my area.

Needles on the sidewalk

Pushing the needle in
to kill the pain
that hides beneath the skin.
Dysfunction, malfunction
emtions begin to drain.
battered and broken
carrying baggage around, not knowing where your goin
there's no one who'll listen, no one to talk.
And you discard it like needles on the sidewalk.

copyright 2009 James Ray Stewart

Every kid needs a good pair of shoes

My heart cries out for the hungry child, not the one over in another country,
but the one down the street from you and me.
A kid is walking his beat
looking for something to eat.
little sister needs fed
and she has no place to lay her weary head.
Not far from there,
is someone who used to care.
Drinking memories away
hoping not to live another day.
His shoes, her shoes, issues
every kid needs a good pair of shoes.

copyright 2009 James Ray Stewart

Thanks Ben/The Riverbank Boys

Thanks Ben

I recently became reacquainted with one of the Riverbank boys back home. Just talking to him on the phone reminded me of how and why we became friends. He's the kind of guy that gives you that push when you need it most. He may not even know what he does, but it's a gift he has. It's like when you get off track and out of nowhere there's a guide to steer you in the right direction. His voice is a familiar voice that let's you know it's OK to be you. It's like when you leave your hometown and come back from time to time and you see the familiarity you remember that inspired you to think outside the box. Thanks! Ben, from an old friend. The Riverbank Boys

In the hills of Kentucky

In the hills of Kentucky echo my father's childhood memories. A child's dream lingers there, tucked away under summer's sun and midnight stars. He said goodbye to McKee, otherwise known as Jackson County. Leaving for neon lights even though that place he once called home was always felt in his heart. The root of my family as I know it is buried there up on a hill.The markers are obscure from passers by. Rarely do visitors come now. Faithfully, every year Granny would take a trip down home to lay flowers on the graves in hopes of not forgetting those who have gone on to their new home. I visited there several times as a child and I fell in love with the landscape. It was like stepping into my families past. I didn't grow up there, but sometimes I wish I would have. It's a beautiful place surrounded by hills and mountains. Regrettably, as I grew older the trips became less and less. Life just takes you away sometimes. The letters we want to write, the phone calls we want to make or the trips we want to take just seem so out of reach by what I call living. I miss papaw's good humor and his banjo picking. He's long gone now, but I remember him well. The people there are a priceless people. I can still smell the firewood burning and the crickets singing at night. As a child I hated to leave when it was time to go home. I couldn't get enough of that place. The meals were like a thanksgiving feast all year round. If you left hungry it was your fault. Ain't no use being shy if your hungry. From time to time I go back there in my mind, which is quite often these days, and think about the things I fondly remember about that place. It was a privilege for me to be able to visit when I did. Now, it is a part of my childhood memories that I hold on to dearly. I thank God for creating that place and giving me the opportunity to see the landscape with my eyes at full attention to the scenery laid out before me. It's a place rich with history and humble beginnings for many families. It's a home away from home. And one I'll never forget.

The Master Poet

The Master poet seems to be absurd at times with words
with broken wings-
he cannot become true divinity.
Must he explain himself before the masses?

Serpents gather to lounge and tongue amongst themselves.
But the poet, the master, he collected knowledge
in this state of being.
Solitude.

Unafraid, but not unaware
in his dark paradise

Dancing ghosts, dancing words,
dreams the poet.

At nearby moon,
to be among the living
unfolding words dramatically spoken.
The face, the eyes so revealing.

Writing has become his religion.
The cure for his broken wings.
But did he really have broken wings?
A light in his darkness-
his fears become non-existent.

Timing is everything

There is a process to every event that takes place in our lives. It will either break us or make us stronger. I prefer the latter. There is something to learn in every situation that keeps us moving forward. To reach that goal depends on choices and timing. Timing is everything.

The purpose of the gift is not mine to keep

After ten years in hiatus I have decided that it was time to share my writing again. I have not had anything published during those ten years until recently. After all, Life is worth living and is meant for giving because you can't take anything with you when you leave. It's certainly does not mean that I am any more important than the next person, but I have something relevant to say. I have written much about things that I feel are important to me and Humanity in general. We have all been given a gift and it is up to us how we choose to use it. If we keep it to ourselves it will only serve us. There will be no return because we did not invest it in someone or something. How can I reap if I don't plant or sow? There will be no harvest. How selfish I once was until I knew that my gift, talent or ability was not mine to keep, but it was for the purpose of helping others. Perhaps if one doesn't think too hard or try to elaborate some scientific intelligent method of reasoning for life we might find that that gift can change someone elses. To think that the dysfunctional and traumatic things I experienced in my life could help someone else was unfathomable at one time. You see my friend, someone out there is where I used to be.