For Allen, looking for work had become work. He had renewed his determination to find a position and was sitting on his bed looking through the employment agency documents he got from a Harvard Colleague in an e-mail. Some of them promised to have jobs in banking and finance. He would get his resumes ready tonight and head out early tomorrow to check out some of these places. Then a soft knock on the door interrupted his mental board meeting.
“Yeah”
“Allen, you still up? Are you busy?” his mother asked diffidently as she cracked the door open and peeked in.
“I was just getting ready to get back onto the job search tomorrow. Is it going to take long? I still have some things I need to do.”
“I just wanted to check and see if you’re okay. You just seemed so upset when you left the table.”
“I know. I didn’t mean to be rude to the Pastor or anyone else. I just wish everyone would let me handle things in my own way.”
“But that’s the thing baby. Sometimes we can’t….”
“You’re not going into the “let go and let God” lecture again, are you?”
“Will you tell me just what is so wrong with taking just a little bit of time to ask God for help? He’s the only one who can help!”
“Really?! Because lately I haven’t been so sure of that.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, I’m not sure there even is a God, anymore.”
“Allen Edward Sharpe! How can you say that after all he’s brought you through?! Brought us all through!”
“Well then, where is He now?”
“Allen, you’ve had a blessed life. Most of these young black boys nowadays don’t even live to see their 21st birthdays and yet here you are with your health, strength and an Ivy League education to boot. And you want to say there is no God?”
“Mom…”
“No, Allen. I remember when the doctor told me when I was just thirteen years old, that I would never have any children. Then when I found out about you, they told me I would be able to carry you no more than a couple of weeks, but you were blessed with seven months in my belly. And I remember when you were born, the doctors said you’d never make it, and that if you did, there was a good chance you’d be disabled. But I prayed Allen. I fell on my face and prayed and your daddy prayed, and your grandmother and your grandfather and Pastor Bynum and Mother Rose and Momma Merta, we all prayed Allen. And now you want to forget those things: all the miracles and wonders God has worked for you. You want to forget God because, like a spoiled child, you can’t get what you want right now!”
“If I’m so special to Him then why has He abandoned me?!”
“Maybe you’ve abandoned Him! Ever since you got into college, all you’ve ever talked about was having that corner office job so you could make a lot of money to spend on worldly pleasures.”
“It’s not just about money, I want to help the community, too. You know that.”
“But what do you intend to give to God? What about that?”
“You know I’ll always give to the church, whatever they need…”
“I’m not talkin’ about giving tithes. God doesn’t need your money. He’s got all the money in the world. I’m talking about giving God your soul!”
Allen stood silent not knowing what to say. He had never thought about it in that way before.
“It’s getting late, so I’m going to leave you with this. The Bible says that Christ is the corner stone. He who falleth on Him shall be broken, but him on whom He falleth shall be ground into powder.1 Allen you better watch yourself before you end up nothin’ but powder.”
Fifteen
Commencement Page 16
