I sat in class today,
Listening to professors lecture
And listening to keys ticking,
And I thought to myself,
Here I sit, in this big school,
In this big city,
In this big world,
Here I sit, little little me.

I looked around,
At all the people,
And I feel so under-qualified.
They draw pictures,
Like what you see in comic books,
And they draw faces
That look more real than reality.

I walked through the halls,
And I watched people,
Laugh, talk, giggle, listen,
Draw, eat, text, walk.
And I thought to myself,
All these people have their lives,
They all live in their own demographic.

Each one of those people
Have their own dreams,
Wishes, fears, morals, opinions.
They have their own hopes,
Stories, memories, friends.
And I thought to myself,
How many of them are as blessed as me?

My first class started,
With the teacher asking,
“Who feels lucky?”
Who feels lucky? Lucky?
No. I don’t feel lucky.
I feel blessed.

I was walking down the halls,
And I heard people talk blasphemy.
I heard vain words, and cursings.
I saw girls drowning in makeup,
Hiding behind their long black hair.
I saw guys with pink hair, and earings,
And girls not sure why God made them girls,
And boys to high to know what common sense is.

I was at school today,
And I had a conversation.
“Love or lust? Which is it?”
I was the only one,
That said love is a commitment,
And lust is a want, a selfish want.
They said lust is a hungry that needs to be feed.
They said lust is an obligation
They said lust leads to love.

I didn’t understand.
Love is a gift, a treasure, a precious symbol.
Love is a commitment,
A paradox where two people become one,
But yet, they are separate.
Love at first sight is possible,
And over time it grows deeper.
All this seemed so new to them.

I wonder if one day,
I’ll be able to tell them…
I’m not lucky,
I’m blessed.
I wonder if one day,
I’ll be able to tell them…
Lust is a sin.
I wonder if one day,
I’ll be able to tell them…
Love is of God.

Yes, I sit in class,
And yes, I feel under-qualified,
Lower, less, worse drawer than any of them,
But my parents are still married,
My friends know who God is,
I know when I look in the mirror
That God made me beautiful.

I wonder if one day,
I’ll be able to tell people
That I love God, and that I’m proud to be His kid.
I wonder if one day,
I’ll be able to stand up and say NO
When I hear people take God’s name in vain.
I wonder if one day,
I’ll be able to pray with my hands folded
And my eyes closed,
While sitting across from my classmates,
And not secretly whispering a prayer,
Embarrassed to be Christian.

They have gifts,
and talents,
Skills and attributes…
So do I.
But one of my greatest gifts
That I have ever gotten,
Isn’t a creative mind,
Or a talented sketching hand,
No,
It is the knowledge
Of having a Father.
A Friend.
A Hero.
A Savior.
And one day,
I wonder…
If I’ll be able to stand up
And make it known.
That I am proud,
To be who I am.