The next day, his fellow students were craning their necks over their readers struggling to make sense of text that for the boy was intuitive. He could have pretended to struggle, but he hadn’t yet learned that he needed to hide his ability, that it could make others uncomfortable. That was about to change.

“Evan, why aren’t you reading?” Asked the teacher, her oversized eyes blinking behind the horn-rimmed glasses she wore.

“I finished already,” he answered simply.

“You can’t have finished, we just started a minute ago,” she said, obviously exasperated at what had to be a lie meant to excuse a lazy student from classwork.

“No, I finished the reader already. I did it yesterday while we were doing the spelling review.” It was obvious he was doing something else during that, wasn’t it? He hadn’t looked up once. Why was she so surprised?

“Fine. Tell me about the story.” No better way to expose a lie than assume its truth, she thought.

So he did. In detail. That was another thing he’d noticed, he tended to remember what he read, especially if it was interesting, and stories were almost always interesting.

“Well you’re not supposed to read ahead,” sputtered the now-animated teacher, obviously confused, “you go out in the hallway and wait for the rest of the class to finish.”

Flabbergasted and embarrassed, the boy got up and trudged outside, sitting down in the hallway as the door slammed behind him.

Not me, the boy thought furtively. The assignment had been to write a simple short fictional account. He’d chosen to transform one of his favorite songs into prose, using the imagery of the song to weave a series of disconnected narratives into a tapestry that complimented the song with its meta-narrative. That it had failed to be appreciated by either his fellow students or the fat teacher mattered more to him than he would ever let on, but it had accomplished its purpose.

“I am your intellectual and literary superior,” he thought loudly, looking around the room and knowing his classmates got the message loud and clear. It was a good thing he cared very little for being popular, because most of his “peers,” as he thought of them smugly, hated him for his arrogance. He knew they looked for opportunities to prove he was not a genius in every area of study, and wasn’t perturbed when they found them. He was an admitted klutz with math, and couldn’t abide most sports.

What the boy wanted most of all was to alienate and push away his teachers, to rebel in the most infuriating way he knew how: by being brilliant and yet defiant. He failed classes with impunity, then happily aced them in summer school the following months. Homework went uncompleted and projects that were uninteresting busywork lay untouched and unreturned. He was the slacker all teachers would fear, he of infinite potential but desperately untamable will. And despite their dire warnings of failure, he’d show them. He’d succeed (whatever that meant) and make them all eat their words.

The fact that my situation in high school was a self-imposed prison did not become clear to me for many years. In fact, much of the knowledge I’d accumulated did not begin to be applied until I was well into adulthood, having survived a continued rebellious period while in the US Air Force. The violent wake-up call that was enlisted service in the Armed Forces combined with falling in love, marriage and fatherhood forcibly expanded my circle of “self” to people whose fulfillment of needs depend on my steady hand. This increase in responsibility at least catapulted me out of irrational rebelliousness.

Another result of that shedding of skin was my re-adoption of the faith of my childhood, though through the eyes of an adult. Since my return to submission to God, I have devoted my mental energies to understanding His word and communicating the clear messages therein to those around me. Not long after I reconverted, it became obvious that my abilities were sharpening under the weight of constant Bible study, and that there had to be a purpose to what was obviously a gift. With this, we come to where I am now, in Research and Composition at William Carey University finishing a preparatory Bachelor’s degree in Religion before moving on to graduate work in Apologetics and Theology. As God wills it, I will continue to use the gift he’s given me not for my own arrogant self-satisfaction, but for the edification of those around me, what I believe to be the purpose of this gift. I wonder sometimes, though, what might have become of my early adulthood and adolescence had that teacher in 3rd grade reacted differently.

1. God cannot be put in a box. I said a while back, “dude, I don’t wanna do youth ministry. Those guys have the hardest job in the building other than the pastor, and get paid PEANUTS for it. You don’t need to go to Africa to live in relative poverty, just be a youth minister.” Fast forward to today when I’m a part of the praise and worship team for the youth and college ministry of my church, and LOVING IT.
2. So far I’m kicking butt in my classes. If I can avoid annoying my english comp teacher by raising my hand and calling her out too often, I think we’ll get along ok. Public Speaking also going very well. Dr Jon’s class is probably the most complicated this trimester, but only in the depth and breadth of material presented, not tested.
3. I am starting the marathon of dental work to repair my war zone of a mouth. I’m hoping I can keep most of my teeth. Seriously, that is a concern. I’m certain two of them are going to be leaving in short order. Two more are teetering on the edge. A couple need root canals and caps, and I have a host of fillings needed. As Karri said, “maybe you’ll brush when it doesn’t hurt just to have the bristles touch your teeth.”
4. My satisfaction level at work has fallen off the map. I spend most of my time either working on the busywork-ish stuff I’ve been handed or thinking about (and writing about) Theology, family, church, the kids, etc. I continue to be simply consumed by fiery zeal for my savior, Jesus Christ. It is a textbook obsession. I’m an incurable Bible geek now.
5. This new laptop rocks!

That is all…