Part 3 - The Test
When a songwriter is commissioned to compose a piece, they are creating this work on behalf of another individual. I had been commissioned at that very moment. The flood of emotion that took over me was a clear sign that God was speaking to me. The lyrics were coming to me so quickly. Tears were flowing from my eyes the entire time I was writing. Within 15 minutes I was done. The song was complete and I was scared.
The next day I was ready to teach "Use Me" to the boys. I wasn't sure how they would respond to it because it was much different than the other songs we had done. But something happened when I began to sing the song. They got really quiet and were more focus than ever on what the song was saying. I will never forget the response of one of the boys. This 11 year old looked me dead in my eyes and It was as if we shared the same mind. I could tell he had felt what I felt the night before. He asked if he could go to the restroom, and he returned a while later. You could tell he had been crying. This was crazy.
All the recordings were done and we were preparing to put on the final concert as The Miller McCoy Boys Choir. I was so proud of these boys. Finally something positive to show the nation about our young black boys. I started to think once the school closes we would open the choir up to other boys around the city and we would mentor them and help them grow to become Godly, successful men. I prayed and said "God, use me to help the young men of this city. They just need to know that someone cares. They can do the unthinkable when they have the support. I am willing to work with the rough, forgotten and unloved." But I guess God had to make sure I was serious.
A few nights later, my fiancée and I were sitting in the car in front of her house. Something we have been doing for a year and a half. There was a tap on the passenger side glass. We both looked and stared at the barrel of a gun. It took a few seconds before we registered what it was and what was happening. Two young black boys were standing there telling us to get out. As I open the driver side door, he comes around with the gun. It is now in my face. He tells me to go lay on the ground. As I lay there, with a gun to the back of my head, I wish I could tell you everything that ran through my mind. But one thing I will tell you is that I was more concerned for their lives than mine. I wanted to know why they were doing it. I prayed "God, I can't leave now. These boys are lost, but if he does shoot me, please let something good come out of it and take me quick so it doesn't hurt." As they drove off in my car, I laid there for a while. I didn't know how to feel. "God...what was that?"
I was standing in the shadows and had placed a gift on the doorstep of what seemed like an abandoned home. A boy in tattered clothes who was about 14 years old opened the door and looked down at the box. He did not see me. When he opened the box there were a pair of preschool skates, the ones that you strap around the kids tennis shoes and they barely move because they are training skates. He started looking around for who had left them but did not see me standing in the distance. He began fussing. "What is this! Why would I want these kiddie skates! I don't want these!" I was confused as to why I gave a 14 year old kiddie skates. But something strange was happening. While he was complaining about how kiddie the skates were, he was putting them on. Still complaining he began to skate. Now these skates are made to barely move but he began to skate as if he had on ice skates. Then something else happened. He got quiet and continued to skate like a pro. Then he began to smile. He then looked up and saw me. I had on a hoodie so he couldn't see my face. He moved towards me but before he could see who I was, I woke.