Red Rover, Red Rover

Remember that game?  We used to play it growing up.   When you'd call out the name of someone you wanted to be on your team, and she'd come flying headlong into the wall of bodies side by side, arms & hands interlocked, as if an iron rope.  The goal was to break through the 'line'.  If you did, you got to be on the team.  If you didn't, you had to go back where you started, stay on the other side. 

I was thinking the other night how horrible it felt to always be the one that never got called to 'come over' to the other team.  I was one of those kids, literally, who was always the last one to be selected  in any game.  Red Rover.  Capture the Flag.  Dodge Ball.  Four Square.  Basketball.  Volleyball.  Softball.  The list goes on and on.  I never got selected to be on anyone's team.  Ever.  And it's not that I wasn't a cute kid.  I was!  Check out the picture on the home page, and you'll see what I mean.  Just a little kid, all smiles and energy, waiting to belong.   Just like every other kid on the block.

Only, I was the one who never got picked.  Why?  Heaven only knows.   I didn't spit on other kids, I was always polite, never talked back to my teachers, did my fair share of the work and then some, never told on a classmate, helped anyone out who needed it.   Good heavens.  A regular angel the way I saw it!

What I didn't see was probably how everyone else saw me.  Scared around the edges.  Quiet.  Not a big talker.  Kept to myself, painfully shy.  Invisible.  

It's how I felt the other night, chores all done, trying to steel myself up for another week in the lion's den, my not-so-affectionate term for the cut-throat rat-race  [see Dream Blog - Rats, Ruts & Remedies] I labor in day after day to fuel this dream.  Build, create, keep faith alive.  It has its perks, so I'm hesitant to complain -  a steady paycheck while the gig lasts, but I wonder now, plopped down in my big ol' armchair, if the price is worth all of this emotional angst.  Trying to fit into other schemes that are not mine to ponder.   Working so hard to belong.  Be a part of the crowd.  Well, at least long enough to say no to the invitation!  I smirk, wondering why I was excluded from the gathering after work.  Just like all those years ago on the playground. 

And then I looked over, saw the red light flashing on my Blackberry, resisted the urge to leave it alone, pack it in for the night, and clicked on the message.  "SELECTED" in the biggest, prettiest letters you've ever seen.   When God means business,  He doesn't mess around ...  [see Music Blog Post Sawdust] 

 Red Rover, Red Rover, let Phyllis come over.