Michael

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Sitting in his bedroom by himself, a seventeen year old boy picked up a can of Dust off and went to work on getting his fix. As he breathed it in repeatedly and felt it instantly sweep over his entire body, he let the can fall to the floor and laid back on his bed feeling like he was no longer attached to his body. He was unaware that his brain was shutting down or the current danger he was in. He drifted off to sleep, intending to awake to his alarm he had set prior to indulging in the can.

Two days later the crowd huddled at the county skate park around two tables pushed together. A man stood in the center asking the crowd to quiet down. People of all ages, men, women, children, and grandparents, parents, teachers, siblings, and friends began to light the candles that the majority of the crowd held in their hands and looked up in anticipation to the man about to speak.

“ Death only hurts the living,” He began. His powerful voice echoed through the silence, hushing even the tiniest bit of thought that may have crept into a teenagers head and gained the full attention of the crowd.

Sniffles began to be heard more loudly as he continued on with his speech about the young mans life. “ We are not here today to morn a death, but rather to celebrate a life. The life of Michael Meek. He was not depressed. This was not a cry out for help. This was a kid who made a mistake. The same kind we all have made, so do not judge him.”

The man speaking was a youth pastor. Someone who knew Michael well, and who strongly believed that this kid was spending his eternity in heaven despite what he had done. His voice broke periodically with such strong emotion, there was unlikely to be a single dry eye.

He shared things about the boy’s life that were funny and things the boy did that if you knew him at all, you would have experienced in those interactions, that brought a quiet chuckle from the somber faces.

“ Do not let his life be in vain. We do not want to be meeting here again any time soon so instead of being the one who passes the blunt, be the one who says ‘what the hell are we doing? Instead of being the one who laughs about how wasted you got that weekend, be the one that says ’I can not believe how stupid we acted’. “ Life is fragile! Think about what you are putting in your bodies.”

His voice got even louder as he scolded the group for doing such foolish things as drinking and drugs. He seemed almost angry and anyone who may have participated in doing some kind of drug with Michael most likely felt very strong guilt, or somehow responsible.

He prayed and he persuaded those in the crowd who were not living their lives for Jesus Christ to do so, so that they one day might rejoin the young man in heaven someday. That they might embrace him, and skateboard with him, and laugh with him once again.

The event certainly had an impact on the people who were there and it was good for them Often it takes something tragic to happen for people to finally shut up and listen. Something like this makes people think twice about the things they do on a daily basis that does not seem like a big deal. Michael probably did not think it was a big deal and look what happened to him. It could have been anybody. He was a good kid and it is a great loss to those here on earth to have to say goodbye but a huge gain for the heavenly world to get to experience that same wonderful Michael that we all did.





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Dragonscribe said...
Sept. 27, 2010 at 6:52 pm

It's so true that people who die using drugs aren't just the ones who have used them their whole life, or who have a crippling depression problem. Anybody, trying it as an experiment or convinced into taking it by a friend, can be hurt by drugs.

Other than your topic, that was a great piece of writing. Keep going, and if you have anything else like this to write, get it out there - the world will listen! I don't know how anyone couldn't; that was a magnificent (as well as sad) article.

 
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