By: Brenda Wilkerson
Uncut and untucked. This is raw, so buckle up.
My hands took turns wiping the tears running down my neck on the way back to the school after my last afternoon drop off. It’s been a heavy day. This week my bus numbers are down almost 50% because my babies have the flu, and it has ransacked our elementary school. Our school system tried to break the contagious cycle by opting for an e-learning day on Friday so kids would be at home an additional day with a holiday on Monday.
On the following a.m. high school route, I heard bus drivers diligently working together on the radio to pick up the kids of a driver/teacher who didn’t show up this morning, which is highly unlikely under normal circumstances. I found out later he had died in his sleep.
On the afternoon route, my sweet girl who confided in me about a previous suicide attempt had now been plagued with stress-related seizures and had been in and out of the hospital. She told me she felt like one was coming on, so I told her to let me know if she needed me. Not five minutes later, her brother came up to me in a panic to tell me that she was indeed seizing. I pulled over safely, popped my brakes, initiated the hazards, and called it in. While I was with her (still seizing), one of my students manned the radio to get school officials and the EMTs to our location. During all of this, I hear normal bus driver chatter in the background, including the voice of a former fellow driver who had put his hands on me a few years back. (I was blamed for his behavior – not by the school – and the driver was sent to another location.) Not random info but it puts in perspective my brain capacity to handle all the things at the same time.
After paramedics showed up to assist my girl, we were back on track. The very last student I dropped off was the one that I have asked prayers for. She read me the lyrics of a song that she wrote in history class today about her abusive, drug-addicted birth mother who abandoned her. The song was titled “Gone before Dawn” —
You were the night I was hiding from forever. Feels like I never really found the way. Buried in the silence, I didn’t think I could make it better. You just left me in the shadows, walked away. I’m shaking like the windows in a storm – you left the lights off. I was frozen, turned bitter in my chest. And all my aching questions, old fears never left. It’s crazy, I’m not used to all this hurt you put me through. But you made me wish to hide from the world and just sleep right through. The words you speak cut deeper in me, you’re Gone before Dawn. I remember every promise you’d leave Momma, haunt me. I was surprised to see hope in your eyes, but I never once felt safe at night. Your love just passed me by as bright as the sun, but you burned right through me, left me numb. Another illusion, you made me feel lost and undone. But you made me wish to hide from the world and just sleep right through. The word that you speak cuts deeper in me, you were . . .
Gone before Dawn.
I am a puddle. I am exhausted! Y’all pray for my precious bus kids!
Because of this appointed day, I have enrolled in a class to be certified in trauma care. Today was no accident. I’m listening, Lord!
Bottom Line: We are not promised tomorrow! What are you here for? Who are you here for? Lean into the quiet places and beg God for direction. Time will not wait for you.
So, if I died tonight, the world would still go on, other drivers would pitch in and get all my kids to school like they did for Mr. Frank this morning. My own children and grands would be sad but adjust, and after some time, go on and live big in their purpose. My few personal items will be dispersed and memories of me will fade away within the next generation.
Question: Will you leave this earth confident you achieved what you were placed here for?
**If you are suffering from abuse from ANYone, even those who are supposed to love and protect you, I see you and, yep, me too. Please reach out, and I can get you some support to walk you through the next steps to healing.
Warning: Not all churches are trained or equipped to handle certain relational situations. Find one that fits you well.
I’m here if you need to talk; just message me.
#notjustabusdriver
#RawUncutUntucked
#onceuponaschoolbus6
By: Brenda Wilkerson
