(On the Outside) Looking in at Life - (Original Song)
In my repertoire of songs I have written over the past four decades, a handful still do not have lyrics. I was working with one tune in particular last month, trying to pair it with a lyric. No theme connected. After a while, a memory popped in my head and pointed me in the direction I ended up feeling the song needed to go. When I was in fifth grade, a group of students were ushered in a room for a meeting. We had been chosen to be the test group to learn French. It was understandable, since our county borders a large part of Québec, whose main language is French. Seven years later, I was still in the program. I was in the first group to make it to the end of the school’s program. To celebrate the achievement, the school decided to take the students who had participated in the program to Québec City for some immersion and exploring. I signed up. There were eight of us invited, but only seven decided to go. I was an only child. I grew up in a very small community with no siblings, no friends within dozens of miles, and no relatives within a decade of my age. Add two full-time working parents, and I found myself isolated and lonely. I was socially awkward, and communication was a struggle for me. (Funny, I would later choose Communications and Radio as my college major.) When we were checking into our hotel, the three girls were assigned to one hotel floor, the four guys were assigned to another. The rooms only accommodated three people. Guess who was the odd guy out? Meeeeee. I was told I would be rooming with the driver, a gentleman who was nearing retirement. The tour programs were set up, and guy/girl pairs quickly formed. Since seven is not an even number, I ended up with what I’m sure no one dreams of: a solo tour of a city I had never been to. I quickly began to regret my decision to go on this trip. It exacerbated an already awkward situation and hit on my already-forming sore spots. I found the rooming situation did present me an option. The driver wasn’t keeping track of me; that wasn’t his job. I found I could sneak out on my own and never be missed after dinner. (Short disclaimer: Yes … as a parent and grandparent, this story horrifies me now, and I am just telling my story … not heralding my youthful stupidity as something to emulate.) I found to my disappointment that Québec City rolled up the city carpet by 6:00. What could I do? I happened upon a small shop and went in. The shop tender spoke to me in French, offering several popular offerings: “Soda? Magazine? Cigarettes?” he asked. “Mais oui! Cigarette!” I replied. That would occupy my time and satiate my rebellion for a few minutes. I took the pack with matches, told the clerk, “Merci,” and exited to the street. I spent my time on the dark, unfamiliar streets in the cold air, and satisfied my feelings with the light of a match. I found it ironic that the French noun, “cigarette,” is feminine, since everyone else having a girl to pair up with was what started this situation out in the first place. Later that night, I returned to the hotel and slid back into the bed … never missed. There were aspects of that experience that have reappeared time and time again in my later years. How many times I have felt like the title says; “On the Outside Looking in at Life.” So many times, I’ve felt excluded, abandoned, unwanted. But throughout my years, I learned to rely on a different source: Jesus. Many times, He shows me He is with me and has not abandoned me (Hebrews 13:5; John 14:18; Matthew 28:20). I have also come to appreciate alone time, because I can spend that time with Him. This story from my childhood and teen years is what finally allowed me to finish the lyric to go along with my leftover musical score from my collection. Several people have already said it echoes much of their own experience. I hope others will be able to relate to it as well.

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