Wrestling Against Myself (6 page)

“I'm not more righteous then they are,” Tony continued his conversation with God as his mind jumped around the issue. “I fail more often than I succeed.”

The issue nagged at him. Why was he so eager to display his faith? Why did he want to be looked at as an example? What would happen when he failed, or people thought that he failed? He knew he was the same when he was by himself as he was with other people around, but he knew he came short in his behaviors more often when no one else was around.

“Lord,
” Antonio bowed his head. “Please help me stay humble,” he said in a small whisper. “Help me to not be hypocritical and do things for the wrong motives. I want to do things because they are what you would have me to do, not so I can receive praise from others. It is easy to want that pat on the back and be told what a good guy I am, but I'd rather the rewards come from you. Let my mind conform to your word. Let me not do what is good in the eyes of others so they think I am a great guy, but let them see you working through me, guiding me against my own sinful ways. In your son's name I pray, Amen.”

Tony stood up from the chair and looked at his Bible again. “Easy to read, hard to implement,” he said, repeating something he heard a visiting preacher say one Sunday morning earlier that summer.

The teen checked his alarm clock. It was time for him to leave for school. He had to be their earlier than the other Christians who met for the morning prayer meeting if he wanted to set up and have time with the youth pastor from his church. Pastor Bob would be unable to lead the meeting himself. There was talk that Pastor Bob wouldn't be in the room in to protect against the appearance of impropriety.

The car roared to life as soon as the key was turned. Tony loved the sound of the engine as he revved it. When he was satisfied the car would stay running he backed out of his driveway and made his way towards the school.

Traffic was light, which suited him fine, but he found himself growing impatient when he came to the light to turn on Michigan Avenue. It seemed to take longer than usual to turn green even though there was no traffic coming from the other direction.

“Relax, Tony,” he spoke to himself over the light morning banter of the Christian radio station. “This is where you practice your righteousness, in the car with nobody watching.”

He took a deep breath. Sometimes his impatience could get the best of him, and he knew it was an area he needed work on. He refused to get upset over waiting at a red light and he wouldn't speed afterward to make up time just because he knew he could get away with it.

Part of him thought that once he calmed down about it, the light would change right away, like a cosmic game of cat and mouse, but it didn't. Tony found himself struggling not to get worked up again. A song came on the radio that he liked and he distracted himself by singing along.

Finally the light changed and Tony made the rest of the way to school unimpeded. It was easier to be righteous in front of others, and he began to worry about his motivations for being Mr. Good Guy to the extreme when people were around. What would they say if they so him getting frustrated at a red light? The fact that he asked himself that question concerned him even more.

“God,” he spoke allowed as he drove. “Help me get to where I only care about what you think about my actions.”

Tony understood that despite how other people viewed him, he was still a work in progress. He hoped he could share his struggles with others, especially those who placed him on a pedestal.

Tony pulled into the empty student parking lot. It was still dark out as he parked his car in the space everyone assumed was his. He always wondered if he should tack a little sign to the wooden light post saying Tony's spot.

The teen laughed to himself. “Half the people don't even know my real name is Tony,” he said as he turned off the engine and the headlights. He grabbed his notebook and textbooks for the day and got out of the car.

For a moment he was compelled to watching the empty football practice field, even though he knew that Pastor Bob was already waiting for him where the prayer meeting was being held.

He remembered the small girl leaving towards the back end of the field the day before and his eyes floated to that general vicinity.

He could make out a figure.

“Is that her?” he asked himself out loud. “It can't be.”

He focused harder on the area. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him, but sure enough, he could see a person making their way through the damp morning grass.

“It has to be her, but why?”

He waited a few seconds, trying to make out any of the details of the young freshman. He could tell by her silhouette that she was wearing some sort of dress, but in the dim light of the early morning he couldn't make out what color it was or what fashion.

Then, as she was passing by the weight room, she vanished from view.

“What the,” Tony made sure to hold his tongue before he let out a word he was trying not to speak.

He had half a mind to walk across the field and see what was going on. He knew he didn't imagine seeing the girl and knew the weight room was locked so there was no way she was going in there to get a workout, not that any girl would be seen dead in what was nicknamed the sweat sock because of the peculiar odor that lingered inside.

Tony waited until the count of ten to see if the girl reappeared, but she never did. He shrugged his shoulders and knew that someone else was waiting for him. “Maybe she's coming to the prayer meeting today,” he said to himself as he made his way up the walkway to the school.

Antonio tried to shake off his concern for the girl, as he wondered what was in the direction he saw her. “I hope she doesn't live in the ditch,” he said, but was sure he was being overly dramatic about the situation. After the prayer meeting he would ask her about it, it was probably something simple.

He didn't have time to dwell on the problem long. He made his way to room D-22 and Pastor Bob was waiting outside the door.

Pastor Bob was six inches shorter than Tony and going bald on top of his head even though he grew the back out longer. He had a bit of a paunch on him, but no one made reference to it and he wore a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt that read “fisher of men” over two crossed fishing poles.

“There's Tiny,” he said.

“Sorry I'm late,” Tony said as he gave the man a hug.

Bob looked at his watch. “Actually you're two minutes early.”

Tony sighed. “Go figure.”

“So, you're the new leader of the morning prayer team,” Bob said tongue in cheek, it was a given that Tony would get the post during his senior year.

“Looks that way.”

Bob opened up his day planner. “Since this is student run, you have a lot of leeway, but there are a few rules.”
“I've read them,” Tony said, trying not to come off as smug.

“I know, but they bear repeating, especially considering your influence on the student body.”

Tony nodded. He supposed that since he put himself in the position of influence, he had to deal with the ramifications.

“One,” Bob read off the list. “You cannot deny anyone access to the prayer meeting on grounds of religious affiliation, that means other denominations of Christians, Muslims, Jews, Hindus or anything else.”

“Got that, we will respect everyone's religious freedom no matter which God they pray to.”

“At least you've read the rules, now you have to practice them. You can't witness to everyone who comes into prayer group; even though I know you want to.”

Antonio listened as the rest of the rules were explained to him again. It was the putting into practice line that stuck with him. Yes, reading was easy. Telling people things you read was easy. Saying the right thing was easy. It was doing the right thing for the right motivation that was hard.

Pastor Bob finished reading the last of the rules. “Any questions?”
 

“Not about what I need to do,” Tony said cryptically.

Pastor Bob looked at his watch. “We still have ten minutes before anyone shows up.”

Tony thought about how he wanted to phrase the question. “How do you know you are doing the right thing because it is the right thing to do or that you do the right because you want people to think that you're a good guy?”

Pastor Bob let out a heavy sigh. “Sometimes it's like walking a tightrope, Tiny. In the end, you have to be true to yourself. God already knows your motivations, you'll never fool him. I know you worry about your own drive. But, it's good to keep asking yourself. It's when you don't ask when you get into trouble.”

“Do you struggle with this too,” Tony asked.

“Tiny, a lot of people do in various degrees.” Bob put his hand on Tony's shoulder. “I know your
heart; we've had lots of discussions. It's good you question your motivation, but don't hold yourself up to a higher moral code than you expect from others. Always strive to do good and to keep God centered here.” Bob poked the teen on his chest over his heart. “And you'll do fine, despite what other people say or think.”

“Thanks Pastor Bob,” Tony said as he tried to let the words settle in.

Bob looked at his watch. “Time for me to get going before we have a controversy on our hand.”

Tony watched as the shorter man walked down the hall and through the exit. He turned and posted a note on the door that a prayer meeting was being held and that all were invited to join but to not disturb if they had other business in the classroom. He opened the classroom door all the way opened and put down the kickstand style doorstop.

Dave and Ted were the first two to arrive. Since they rode to school together, it was no surprise. They were having one of their lengthy discussions about the Christian role playing game they were trying to perfect to rival Dungeons and Dragons.

“Tiny, help us out here,” Ted said. “Do you think Goliath was an ogre or a giant?”

“He's a...” the final word didn't escape Dave's mouth as he was elbowed in the ribs.

“Let Tiny say himself, without your influence.”

“Is this for your game?”

“Yeah,” Dave answered before Ted could and then gave his friend a smug smile.

Tiny shook his head. He tried to play one of the games the two had concocted and spent an entire night with them and two other friends rolling dice and speaking in the kings English. He politely made it through the night, since he had agreed to, but with their collection of shields and blunt swords, he really wanted to go out in the back yard and really do battle instead of roll around funny shaped dice. “Bible said he was a giant, I don't think it mentions ogres in their anywhere.”

“Told you,” Ted said with the air of triumph.

“We still need ogres.”

“We do not.”

“If it was good enough for C.S. Lewis.”

“You're thinking of Tolkien,” Ted countered.

“Whoever, we still need them.”

“Guys!” Tiny said firmly. “Let's have this discussion when we aren't getting ready to pray.”

The two nodded in agreement. It was the same argument they'd been having since last February, only the type of monster changed from one argument to another.

Tracy walked in next and took one look at the two boys standing near the front of the room with slumped shoulders. “Let me guess, Dungeons and Dragons?” she said with a wry smile.

“Christians and Romans,” Ted Corrected.

“Battlefield of God,” Dave said almost in unison.

“Guys,” Antonio said before a new argument over what name their creation should be called started.