A Band Called Hoobastank

I listened to the music from across the parking lot and thought it sounded pretty cool. The more I listened, the more I was intrigued. So I approached the obvious high schoolers and asked about it.

“Hoobastank.”

“What?”

“”Hoobastank.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

It took a while. They laughed at me.

I’ve never been considered cool, popular, accepted. I’ve always been a nerd, geek, outsider. I don’t think I ever cared that much. I was comfortable with being me. I saw so much sadness in the ones who were lauded.

The ones I met in the parking lot were probably a lot like me. Hoobastank has a following of fringe people. Why could they not see our kindred spirits?

We tend to walk around with tinted glasses.

He’s older, he must be…
She’s gay which means she’s ….
They’re kids, they must be…
I’m a sinner, so that means…

The cry of today’s “tolerance ” is to let everyone do what they want. The cry of God’s love is different.

“You are accepted. You can be healed. You can find hope. You are loved.”

It doesn’t matter how old you are. It doesn’t matter what struggles you have.

You may even listen to Hoobastank.

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