So I am about to google something about Boston.

I put into the search engine, “Why are Bostonians…” and before I could complete my typing the search engine pulled up.. “So rude.”

I thought that was hilarious.

I could remember being seventeen on those streets wondering why everyone I walked past and spoke to would look at me as if I were an alien with four eyes on my forehead, and three heads on my neck and something else funky going on.

Use your imagination.

I wanted to leave.

I could remember talking to one of the substitutes that would give us a little help in our classroom almost every other month about wanting to leave after I had been there for over five years and still hadn’t become acclimated to the cold climate, not just in the weather but also in the disposition of people.

I didn’t realize at the time that I just wasn’t digging deep enough.

The cold exterior was just that. I have come to know that the people I have left behind were some of the most beautiful and kind people that I may ever meet. Its just it takes a little work and effort before they let you in.

I can dig that.

I realize it is really nothing more than a mask.

I think to the mask I used to wear. Some days I still am fighting to understand who i am so I can fully remove it and all traces of who I have been told I am. But back then I would pretend everything was alright and I had it all together all the while hiding the pain of unresolved issues that I cared not addressed, and would hate anyone who might have been dealing with their own stuff. I would then low key diss, or you know use a facebook status to go after someone in a way I never had the nerve to address in real life to try and make myself feel as if I were better for someone who may have been in a more disadvantaged state than I was.

Its no wonder one semester away from my UIC degree I had to leave. No wonder my ‘perfect family’ fell apart. No wonder my ‘friends’ fell away. Here I was with this self righteous attitude not willing to understand someone else’s struggle. Even those that had to fake it until they made it. Even someone that had a good message regardless to what else went along with it. Respecting someone else’s struggle was foreign to someone who didn’t really have to do much in the way of struggling, not for real. Not when help was just a call away even though many times I would be stubborn and not make the call. It was always an option. Not until there were no more options. Not until facing my struggle created a new life that created in me a new heart and a new love and understanding for people in the midst of pain.

See back then It was much easier to deal with someone else’s stuff instead of my own. Now I just want to get my own self free. Right now I want to love someone but I won’t love someone who is not free to love me, not yet anyway.

Patience is a virtue. I want to carry that trait.

See pain is not able to be hid from a person that has already experienced it. Its like looking in a mirror at who you are, which makes some people shun each other, or who you were which causes someone that is going through to avoid someone that has overcome.

I get it.

That was my regular life. I did not want to heal. I did not want to deal. Now I just want to please God.

It is not easy. My flesh screams at me daily! Thirty two years of doing my own thing give or take and one good year of trying to get on the good foot in the midst of my Savior’s inner circle is a poor ratio for success. The only way I can win in that is in leaning on Jesus and getting all the strength that the word has promised I can do all things through, so He can show me the way. Yeah the struggle is real. I may be a new creature in Christ, but until my flesh is no longer the struggle against my spirit will continue.

I fight still.

Things may appear to be one thing on the surface, but sometimes it takes a lot of work to get underneath. I know one thing that self righteous outlook is gone. I am nothing, without God anyway. With Him I know this good work he has started in me He will complete. I know this joy has been given for my willingness to lower myself to the understanding of knowing that the greater one knows what i need to get me to where I need to be. I mean how can I be humble and exalting my opinions at the same time. How can I boast about what I am able to do when the word says no man should boast on their accomplishments. For it is not he who commends himself that is approved, but he whom the Lord commends.

There is nothing i can do that may not later fall flat. Especially when I am trying to make another feel bad about what they don’t have that I may. Or what I am able to do that they have not gotten a mastery of. Divine timing is how deliverance is doled out. Only God knows our hearts enough to know when we are ready for something. So how could i have sat in self righteousness condemning another when I as an imperfect human sin daily?

I will patiently wait for the stones to be thrown, you. Yes you who has no sin.

Still waiting.

Ok. All is still well.

I am learning. Hoping. If I ever do something in the wrong manner someone will come to me personally and correct me. Let me know something. With boldness instead of sly attacks of the passive aggressive nature. In love. That ultimate feeling. You know. being able to help a person get on the right track when someone has it so all together that they can comment on another’s lifestyle, choices or behaviors. Obviously it is that person’s life work to help people get it together.

I am thankful God never put a desire to do such a thing in my heart. Life has given me a lot of painful experiences. In such a short time. I loved doing me, so I got a chance to learn hard lessons. I share my stories. I hope no one has to face what I have had to, and if they do I hope there is some love in my words to help them heal from the hurts that I am now learning how to do.

I don’t know. Maybe Boston was filled with the most loving rude people I ever met. Maybe it was if they like you they liked you, and if they didn’t they didn’t even see you. They sure wasn’t talking about things in all passive aggressiveness.

It was, “Hey you. Whats ya problem? Don’t make me pahk the cah in Hahvahd yahd.” Yeah folk was kinda bold, blunt to the point maybe a little confrontational, but it was straightforward.

I understood it. I just wasn’t used to it, where I came from.

One of the people commenting said, “Guys stay away from Boston.” I laughed harder. Whatever yo. That will always be home away from home. I can’t wait to get back to get me a beef patty with coco bread and cheese from Lenny’s. Real recognize real. It can’t compare to the skyline of my Chi, and for that reason I don’t compare.

Hey how about that for a revelation. Two different things can never be the same. So why even try to compare?

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16 thoughts on “Why Compare what can never be the same?

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