Bits and Pieces

I have a new home.

Please visit my new site called "t(r)oymarbles" at www.troymarbles.com

a monologue by Troy Cady

©Copyright October 2004. Madrid, Spain. Hunter’s Gifts by Troy B. Cady.

Special Note: This play is protected under copyright law and performance is strictly prohibited without the express consent of the author. Though production is generally granted royalty free, please contact the author for performance rights.

Synopsis: Hunter recalls a time in his childhood when he learned first-hand how God provides.

Time: The present.

Place: Anywhere.

HUNTER: I think it was when I was seven that I first became aware we were poor. My friend, Mike Baden, got a new GI Joe action figure and naturally I wanted one too. So, that night as Dad was tucking me into bed I asked him if I could get one. He said, “I’m sorry, Hunter, we can’t afford a GI Joe action figure.” I must have had some kind of confused look on my face because he said, “Do you know what that means, Hunter? That we can’t afford one?”

I said, “Does it mean we don’t have enough money to buy one?”

He smiled and said, “Yes, that’s right, Hunter.”

I sighed. And Dad did, too.

But then, his voice changed: “But, I tell you what Hunter: I’ve got an idea. Let me see what I can do, okay?”

“You mean, I might be able to get one, after all?”

“No, no, you won’t be able to get a new GI Joe guy but I’ve got something else in mind, okay?”
“Okay.” I trusted him. Whatever idea he had, I knew it would be good, because, well, he’s Dad. He kissed me and I slept well that night, knowing Dad would make good on his promise.

It was a while before I got my surprise, but it was worth the wait. It was a little hand-made action figure Dad made during his lunch breaks at work from some scrap wood they had laying around there. One night when he came home, he opened the door, smiling to beat all. “Hunter! Hunter! I’m home! And I’ve got a surprise for you!” It was beautiful.

The next day was Saturday, and after gulping down my breakfast, I raced over to Mike’s place to show him my action figure.

“Cool! What’s his name?” Mike asked.

“Forrest, ‘cause he’s a Fire Ranger and also ‘cause he’s made of wood.”

“Cool! Hey, maybe Forrest could be a partner for GI Joe.”

“Yeah, cool!” We played all day that Saturday, skipping lunch and stopping when our voices got hoarse.

A few weeks later, I was over at Mike’s and he told me he was going to go see “The Jungle Book” in the movie theater that coming Saturday. He asked if I could come along. I went home and asked Mom. She said, “Oh, Hunter, honey. You know we can’t afford that.”

“What do you mean, Mom?”

“Well, honey, it costs money to go to the movies.” I had no idea. That night it was hard to sleep. I kept thinking of how I could get some money to go to the movie with Mike.

Next day, I went over to Mike’s and he asked me if I talked to my parents about going to the movies with him. I said, “Yeah.” He said, “What’d they say?” I said, “They said no.” He said, “Why?” It was embarrassing to tell him why: “I can’t go to the movies because we don’t have any money.”

He couldn’t relate to that at all. He just said, “Oh.” And we sat there for a while, thinking.

Then he said, “I have an idea. Why don’t you sell me something of yours and then you can go?”

I thought about that and said, “That’s a good idea, but I don’t really have anything to sell you.”

“Well, how about Forrest?” he asked. I hated to give up my special guy, but I just wanted to be like a normal kid and go to the movies like everyone else so eventually I did.

The following week, the money was gone and I wished I hadn’t sold Forrest. The week after that, I really wished I hadn’t sold him: Dad got laid off and we needed the money.

One night just after I had gone to bed, I heard Mom out in the living room. She was upset. Dad was trying to calm her down. From my bedroom I could just make out words like “groceries” and “rent.” I crept to my bedroom door. It was slightly open. I peered through the crack and I could see Dad holding Mom. She was crying.

That next night, Dad tucked me into bed and he could see I was upset. He asked me what was wrong. I told him I was worried about stuff. He asked what.

I told him: “I’m worried about money.”

The words surprised him. He said, “You don’t need to worry about money, Hunter, okay?”

I said, “But you don’t have a job now, so how are we gonna get money to buy food and stuff?”

He was even more surprised: “What makes you think we don’t have enough money?”

I said: “Well, I heard you and mom talking about it last night.”

He said, “Hey, buddy, listen to me now, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Let me ask you: have we ever gone without? Have you ever gone hungry?”

“No.”

“Have we always had a place to live? Have you always had clothes to wear? A bed to sleep in?”

“Yeah.”

“So what makes you think we’re in trouble now? God has always taken care of us, hasn’t He?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“You ‘guess so’? You know so, don’t you, Hunter?”

“Yeah, Dad. I know so.”

“Okay, that’s better. Now why don’t you thank God for taking care of us, okay?”

“Okay.”

After I prayed, Dad said, “Hey, Hunter. Guess what?”

“What?”

“Your birthday is only a week away! You’re gonna be eight soon!”

“Oh, yeah…that’s right!”

“Let me ask you: What would you like for your birthday?”

I hesitated: the first thing that came to mind I knew we couldn’t get.

Dad asked again: “Well, buddy. What would you like?”

“I can’t say.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know we can’t get it.”

“Well, now, how do you know we can’t get it unless you ask?”

“Because I just know, okay?”

“Well, ask anyway. You never know. You just might get your wish.”

I paused and said, “Well…Mike Baden has a slide in his backyard. I’d like to have a slide, too.”

Dad said, “A slide?”

I said, “Yeah, like the one Mike Baden has.”

He asked me what Mike Baden’s slide was like.

I said the two most important words to a seven year old boy: “Big and shiny,” knowing full well that I would never be able to get a big and shiny slide like Mike’s for my birthday.

But Dad just said, “Well, Hunter, I tell you what, I’m gonna see what I can do, okay? I can’t make any promises, but let me think about it, okay?”

I said “okay”, knowing that was just Dad’s way of saying, “You’re not getting a slide on your birthday, so don’t set your heart on it.”

Well, the day came for my birthday. I invited Mike over for the party after we had a small dinner. Dad gave me his gift first: I was shocked…See, the thing is: mom and dad couldn’t afford a big, shiny slide like Mike Baden’s, so instead Dad made a makeshift slide in the living room with a small piece of plywood propped up by the back of the couch. Dad apologized that he couldn’t get me what I really wanted, but said he figured this was “the next best thing.” He was wrong: it wasn’t “the next best thing”; it was better. After going down the slide a few times, I decided the plywood was a ramp and I was a stuntman: Instead of going down the slide, I ran up it and jumped off when I got to the top, landing on the carpet in front of the couch. I surprised my Mom and Dad with that initial trial run, and they told me not to do it again: I could get hurt. But I begged, and they gave in. Dad got me his work helmet and told me to wear it, “just in case”. I didn’t mind: it only helped improve the stuntman routine. I ran to the bathroom and grabbed 2 towels to serve as capes for Mike and me. Meanwhile, Dad put the couch cushions on the floor to serve as a landing pad. I took my position and revved my make-believe engine. The crowd cheered, and I let loose just when my imaginary motorcycle was running at a high-pitched scream. I reached the plywood, scrambled to the top of the couch and launched myself through the air, landing on the cushions below. The crowd clapped and shouted and I stood up, taking a bow, triumphant, smiling. It was my moment of glory.

Mike and I took turns playing stuntman. With each jump, the room got louder. Mostly, I remember the sound of laughter. Good Lord, how we laughed that night! Mom and Dad laughed so hard they were sweating, I swear it. Mike and I must have jumped off of that ramp about twenty times each, getting bolder and bolder each time. Till, finally, on one jump I missed the cushions and hit the floor hard. I couldn’t stop myself and crashed into the wall. I broke my arm. On my eighth birthday.

Dad sent Mike home. We got in the car and drove to the emergency room in silence. I’ll never forget that ride. Mom was holding me, soothing me saying, “Shhhh…Shhhh….”

She whispered to Dad, “Matthew…How we gonna pay for this? We can’t afford this.”

Dad reached over and held Mom’s hand. I looked up at Dad’s face. He wasn’t worried. I looked at Mom. She was.

“Well? How we gonna pay for this? We can’t afford this.”

Dad kept his eyes on the road and just said, “God will provide, honey. Don’t worry. God will provide. He always has.”

Mom looked at Dad, and Dad glanced at Mom. He smiled. She wept. That was all I remember of that day. I fell asleep.

Next thing I remember, it was morning. When I woke up, I had a cast on my arm, and there was Mike. He had a package in his hand.

He said, “Here: I never got to give this to you last night. Happy birthday, Hunter.”

He helped me open it up and there was Forrest.

“Thanks, Mike,” I said.

Then, I looked up, smiling. Mom was there, Dad was there, and Mike was there. Then, I’ll never forget what I saw next. On the wall: a picture. It was a painting of Jesus. He was holding a boy like me who must have been about eight years old. That’s when I realized: I have everything I need. So, I looked up, smiling.

END OF DRAMA

Dear Johanna,

This is a very special day for you. Today, you will be baptized. As you think about baptism, I wanted to share with you a little of its heart. So, I’ve written you this letter.

It’s hard to know how to start, so I’ll just cut right to it: Baptism is art. More specifically, baptism is dramatic art. In your baptism, we are going to re-enact a drama involving a bad guy, a victim and a hero.

This way of thinking about baptism (as a drama) goes all the way back to many centuries before Christ lived. Baptism was foretold in a dramatic conflict called the Exodus. You’re familiar with that story, but let’s retell it to think of it through the lens of your baptism.

What happened in the Exodus story? First, there was a group of people loved by God, set apart by Him to know Him and to follow Him. These were the Israelites. One day, the Israelites decided to move from Israel to live in Egypt, thinking it would be a place where they would be taken care of. But Egypt ended up being a place of oppression for the Israelites, because the Egyptians eventually pressed the Israelites into slavery. The Israelites were forced to build things for the Egyptians that were made out of mud bricks. God saw the slavery of the Israelites and didn't like it, of course. So, God raised up a person named Moses to liberate the Israelites. Moses went to the king of Egypt with God's message: "Let my people go." But the king of Egypt wanted to keep the Israelites in slavery. So, a conflict arose and it climaxed in two key events.

The first climactic event was the Passover. To help the Israelites go free, the Egyptians were given a terrible (yet just) punishment by God: the death of every firstborn male in Egypt. Now, in order to save the Israelites from the punishing angel of death, God asked them to kill a perfect lamb and spread its blood on the doorposts of their houses. They did this so that the angel would know that that house contained people that followed God, so the angel would "pass over" that house. After that terrible night, the king of Egypt let the Israelites go.

But that wasn't the end of the story. The second climactic event happened right after the Passover. The Israelites left Egypt and headed towards their homeland. On the way, however, they came to the Red Sea. The Israelites were wondering how they were going to get around the sea, when the king of Egypt gathered his army to attack. The Israelites had nowhere to go. They had their backs to the sea. So, God parted the waters of the sea and the Israelites walked across to the other side. As they literally passed through the waters, they were saved. But the enemy came after the Israelites, following them through the parted waters. However, when the Egyptian army was in the middle of the seabed, the waters closed in on them, defeating them in a final, victorious triumph. The bad guys were vanquished.

Now, baptism is cool because it's a dramatic retelling of this original drama in the Exodus and of another drama: the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In this way, baptism is like a play within a play within a play.

First, there are the chosen people. Like the Israelites in the Exodus, the Bible tells us that all of us are singled out by God to know Him, love Him and follow Him. The Bible refers to this as "living in His kingdom." That means: living under His rule, authority, care and love. Think of this as "living in God's country."

But something has happened that gets in the way of that. First of all, like the Israelites, we all decide to live in another place that has another king. We move away from God's country. We move away from His rule, authority, care and love. Most of us do this because we think the other country looks like a good place to live (just like the Israelites did when they, by their own free choice, first moved to Egypt). We think, like the Israelites, that by going to this other country, we will have our needs met. So, we too, freely choose to do this. This choice to move from one country to another is what the Bible describes as choosing to sin. Sin is our way of saying to God, "I want to live life my own way. I don't want to follow your rule in my life." The sad thing is: we've all sinned. We've all moved from God's country (where He rules) to another country. And at first, moving to this other country feels fine.

But the ruler of that new country turns out to be not as nice as the ruler of the other country we were living in. In this case the ruler of the new country is not called the king of Egypt, but rather Satan. Like the king of Egypt, Satan is nice at first but really mean later on. In fact, he is a liar, a slave driver, and a murderer (just like the king of Egypt--only 27 trillion times worse!). And, just as the Israelites eventually had no choice but to keep doing stuff for the ruler of Egypt, so we, under the rule of Satan, are destined to keep performing works for him. This is ironic, because at first we chose to move from God's country by our own free will, but later on, like the Israelites, we no longer have a choice. We have to keep doing what our new king wants us to do. We truly are in slavery. We keep on sinning and sinning and sinning because we have to. What we don't realize is, it is killing us and Satan is slowly killing us.

Now: the part I like the best is where the hero comes in. God, the king in whose land we should be living, loves us so much that he sent us a special representative to help us. To the Israelites he sent Moses. To us, he sent Jesus. Jesus was different from Moses in one crucial way: Jesus was God himself who became man. Moses, on the other hand, was just a man. Now, it makes sense that God raised up Moses (a mere man), because Moses' enemy was a mere man himself. You send a man to do battle with a man. But, the real enemy in our case (Satan) is not a man, but a spirit. So, it takes God to do the work. That's why God became a man in Jesus Christ: Because it was mankind that needed to be saved, but only God had the ability to save and set us free from Satan's tyrannical grip.

So, in the same way that God sent Moses to set the Israelites free from slavery, death and the king of Egypt, so God sends Jesus to set us free from sin, death, and the devil. In setting us free from sin, Jesus tells us "You don't have to keep doing the works of the devil." Just as God wanted the Israelites to stop making bricks for the king of Egypt, so God wants us to stop doing things that contribute to the well-being of the hateful kingdom of Satan. God wants us to stop sinning, in other words. At first, it may seem like this is unreasonable, but what is He doing essentially? He's asking us to stop doing stuff that kills us. When God wanted the Israelites to stop making bricks it wasn't because he wanted to spoil their fun, it was because he wanted them to enjoy life and be set free.

So, Johanna, later in the baptism drama you are going to not only renounce Satan, you are also going to renounce his works. By renouncing Satan's works you are saying, "I want to stop sinning. I want to stop making bricks for Satan's kingdom of death."

But our personal choice to renounce slavery to sin and the devil only goes so far. Yes, the Israelites did need to make a choice to leave behind slavery, but it took a special act of God to make it possible for the Israelites to actually do that. They couldn't just walk out of the country because they wanted to (the king of Egypt would have stopped them)! In the same way, you can't just walk out of slavery to sin and the devil because you want to. For starters, you don't really have the power to do that yourself. If you tried, Satan, the evil ruler, would stop you from doing it. Freedom from slavery to sin and the devil ain't something you can achieve on your own. You need help from God. You need a miracle.

In the case of the Israelites, that miracle was the Passover. That's when the evil kingdom was punished by a miracle of God and the Israelites were spared by spreading the blood of a perfect lamb on the doorposts of their houses. If it weren't for that miracle, the Israelites would never even have been able to go free, regardless of how much they wanted to be free.

In your case, Johanna, it’s similar. Like the Israelites, all you need to do is spread the blood of a perfect lamb on the doorposts of your heart. The blood I am speaking of here is Christ's, whom we call the Lamb of God. When Jesus died on the cross, shedding his blood like the Passover lamb, the Bible says it was a moment of victory where Satan and his legions were defeated. It says, "When you were dead in your sins" (like the Israelites were dead in slavery!), "God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the written code...that stood opposed to us; he took it away, nailing it to the cross. And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross." The blood of Jesus shed on the cross, then, is like the blood of the lamb in the Exodus: it wins a victory for us, sets us free, if we apply it personally. By saying you believe in and want to follow Jesus, you are spreading the blood of Jesus (the lamb of God) on your heart. By placing your faith in Him you are set free. That's why I'll ask you about your belief in Jesus and His death later on in the baptism.

Now: That was the first climactic event, the first victory. But, remember, there's another victory. The drama isn't over yet. See, Satan is still running after us with all his soldiers. He wants to kill us, just like the king of Egypt still wanted to kill the Israelites after the night of the Passover. We find ourselves at the edge of a sea, like the Israelites, and we are wondering: how are we finally going to escape the clutches of the slave-drivers? God makes a way for us through the water in the same way he did for the Israelites. That's what baptism is. If we choose to pass through the water, following God, He will save us. By doing so, God will win the final victory over slavery to Satan and sin.

So, in the baptism drama, Johanna, you will pass through the water. This signifies that (first) Jesus died to make escape from slavery to sin and the devil possible. Second, this signifies that you want to walk away from sin and all that Satan wants you to do. Third, this signifies that you want Satan and his slave-drivers to be put to death in you. Fourth, this signifies that you want to live under God's rule now, in His country again.

In being baptized, Johanna, you are saying, “I want to live. I want to follow my leader Jesus Christ into the water. I can only survive by going through the water. The water sets me free. The divine, dramatic conflict is won in the water, where Satan can’t swim.”

Because of that, Johanna, this day I respond to your baptism the same way the Israelites responded when the evil tyrant and his kingdom were defeated: I respond with heartfelt rejoicing. At last, you are free.

Love,

Troy

by Heather Cady

I stand before You
Shuffling my feet,
Rubbing my gritty eyes.
Miserable in my shame and guilt.
I clutch the list of my sins
Behind my back
so You won't see.
But the look in Your eye
says You have seen it
Already
You beckon me to bring it to You,
unbending my stubborn fingers
with a gentleness I cannot resist.
I hang my head and wait,
for the humiliating announcement
that I have done it.
AGAIN.
Instead, I hear the glorious sounds of
tearing paper.
I open my eyes and watch
tiny scraps of paper drift past my feet.
You blow, and they scatter wildly.
For one mad moment, I run and try to capture them,
Convinced we somehow need a record of my wrongs.
Your voice stops me.
You blow harder, and I stand in the whirlwind,
Captured by the delight on Your face
As You blow my sins away.

October 22, 2004

Dear Meaghan,

This morning you invited Mom and Dad to the birthday party of a very special person to you: your doll, Sarah. The invitation read on the front: “Happy Birthday, Daddy.” At first, I thought you were celebrating my birthday, but then I read on the inside that it was really for “Serah”. You folded a piece of A4 paper in half, drew a picture and some balloons on the front and another picture on the inside with the words of invitation on the inside facing page.

Upon arrival in your room, we found all the other guests of honor already assembled. Lexi, your stuffed beagle (that looks at lot like Lexi, our real dog) was there in a posture we would never see our real Lexi in: still. Molly was there, red, matted hair trimmed haphazardly by you some months ago. Today she didn’t have on any clothes, so Mom gestured to get her dressed. She pulled out a proposed outfit but that outfit, which contained lace around the neckline, wasn’t deemed “pretty” enough to your taste. So, Molly remained undressed for the duration of the party. Lamby was there as well, dressed in muted lime green. Lamby has to be the softest stuffed animal—strike that, softest anything—I have ever touched. Sheer comfort. You had some other guests present too, but I fail to remember who they were just now since Sarah, Molly, Lamby and Lexi (both real and stuffed) played the lead parts in your birthday party drama.

We started your party per your request with some games. We played “Duck, duck, goose.”

(By the way, it should be called “Duck, Duck, Grey Duck” and don’t ever let your Mom or anyone else convince you otherwise! It’s more fun that way. Instead of just walking around blandly chanting, “duck. duck. duck. duck. duck. GOOSE!” you get to use all kinds of different colors and fake people out: “Red duck, Blue duck, Purple duck, Grrrrrrrreen duck…”—notice the little “teaser”?— “Orange duck, Yellow duck, Chartreuse duck…” --see how you can think up all kinds of cool colors?—“Black duck, Grey duck!” This version is much more fun than “Duck, duck, goose”, in my humble opinion. Anyway, I digress—back to your party game…)

Since there were only three humans and one dog present (compared to a vast multitude of stuffed animals and dolls), most of the actual playing was done by the manufactured entities. The way this happened was by you holding them in your arms and having them touch each “person” present while putting on a voice that was only slightly different from your own. We weren’t exactly seated in a circle, and after the first round of play we needed to move the fan from the center of the room. After the second round, we needed to move the desk chair. Having cleared the area, we could then proceed to play properly.
After “Duck, Duck, Goose” you proposed we play “Pass the Parcel”. You had a little toy “Barbie” radio (about one and a half inches high by about 4 inches wide) that played a song for all of 2 seconds that you deemed suitable for the musical portion of that game. Upon pressing the button, the lot fell to Mom. Since you didn’t have an actual “Parcel” for the game, you just made one up on a common index card and handed it to Mom.

After that, we played “I Spy.” Your dolls and pets joined in on that too, which was quite interesting. You made up an item that we would have to guess and, in the voice of Sarah, would give us our first clue. But before we got a chance to guess, you would take a guess. Funnily, even though you were the one who thought up the item and the clue in actual point of fact, you would guess wrong! I suspected this was because of your kind heart: you wanted to let us have a chance at guessing.

After games, we sang “Happy Birthday” to Sarah. You were the song-leader, and though you probably kept pitch, it is unknown to me at present if Mom and I sang the song in one, two or three different keys throughout its cadence. Having stumbled through the song, you “cut” pieces of cake for us (a three-tiered plastic jobby) and handed it to us. Mom dug right into her piece, but I was polite and waited until everyone was served (including the dolls). We feasted till our bellies burst and then bid Sarah and all your visitors a farewell.

Looking back into your room as I was leaving, you were smiling (such a beautiful smile you have!). I asked, “Do you want me to shut the door?” You responded, “Yes, please.” I closed the door and heard you saying something to your friends. It is unclear to me what you said, but I suspect Sarah, Molly, Lamby and Lexi understood. I smiled and shuffled downstairs.

You are a delight, my child.
Dad