Some Trash Refuses to Die… 

I have been jogging around my neighborhood since 2008. To find out how I started running, you will have to go here to discover the beauty of running for a cause. But that is not what I want to write about tonight. Rather, I want to do some trash talking.

You heard me right: trash. Running through the same streets repeatedly helps you get acquainted with every little turn, every nook and cranny, every light post, every hole and pothole, every odd thing that makes up the ground a neighborhood walks on… (actually drives would be more appropriate. Nowadays dogs walk people and people hide behind their castles).

Among my findings trash has become a favorite. Yes, there is the occasional candy wrappers and the bottle thrown out the window by a mindless teenager. There is also the soda cans and the pencils or pens some youngster dropped from her school bag. I have seen dirty diapers, discarded batteries, empty bags of potato chips, and even scratched compact disks.

I run one day and pass by the usual suspects, but another day I look for them and they are gone. Usually after a rain or a hard wind. But you may say that some trash refuses to be trashed — Marlboro cigarette boxes, little containers of chewing tobacco, a rusty nail, a lost glove, etc.

These may move a little but they refuse to go. I have taken to give them pet names, and especially on long runs, I like to address them, “Hey Rusty, you moved a few inches… looking for Mrs. Rusty?” I find a sense of familiarity on my runs when I see my old “friends.” It gives me comfort and a quiet assurance that I will get to my destination.

But then one day I got to thinking: some people choose to live like the trash on my streets. Some stuff they easily let go; others, they hang on to them and refuse to let go. Or they let it go for a while, only to find it on the next corner as they turn south.

One day, however, a super storm blows East and the effects are felt in the Middle west. Being crazy, you go running in the middle of the storm and all of a sudden you notice — your “friends” are gone!

There is a point to this story: don’t wait for the big storm. Deal with the stuff that refuses to go upfront. Don’t let it grow on you, don’t covet its familiarity. There are behaviors that in the end will prove destructive. The Bible calls them sin. But God has provided a way — the forgiveness that comes through Jesus Christ. Embrace it and you will not need to brave the storm.

I am glad that God has given me the strength to weather the storm in the hardest moments of my life. Today I am full of hope and eagerly anticipating what lies ahead.

Ivanildo C. Trindade

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