It was the last day of school at Parkersburg South in 1994. Just two more classes after lunch, and I would officially be a senior…though that was the last thought in my mind at the time. There were video games to be played, sleeping in to be done, and the sweet freedom of summer waiting like a wrapped present. Those blissful thoughts came crashing down after lunch, however.
It was time for typing class. Typing class was not my academic pride and joy. I wasn’t failing, but I certainly wasn’t dazzling anyone either. Several assignments still needed to be turned in so the grades could be finalized. Much to my despair, the realization came upon me that all those assignments were in my locker—while I was already in class.
Now, in those days the campus of PSHS was not enclosed. There were several buildings, and to get from one to another you had to walk outside. Sometimes that meant rain, sleet, or even hail bouncing off your head as you hustled between buildings in the allotted five minutes between classes. Thankfully, this day was pleasant—hot for early June, but pleasant. The building that housed my locker wasn’t the closest to the typing class, but it wasn’t the furthest either. The teacher wrote out a hall pass, and off I went as fast as I could go.

A few minutes later I arrived at my destination, and relief quickly turned into something else entirely. My locker—along with every other locker in that hallway—was opened and emptied. Not good! Why and how could this happen, I shouted in my mind.
Upon finding the men who unknowingly caused me a great deal of stress, they explained that they had been told to go ahead and start emptying lockers, and everything from that hallway had already been taken to the dumpster. I had forgotten we had been told about this, or maybe I never knew. I likely was told but filed it in the “does not pertain to me” file in my brain. It was bad enough that my typing assignments were in there, but my buddy had his Rocky video collection in there too, not to mention my sunglasses (the nicest pair of reflective shades that $6.99 could buy) were among the pile of goods.
I returned to typing class and told the teacher what had happened. Her words bore no sympathy. She simply said, “You need to find them or you will fail this class” My heart sank, but I am pretty sure that my blood pressure rose.
So my buddy—the one who lost his Rocky tapes—ran with me to the dumpsters. He was kind enough to hoist me in and supervise from the ground. Let me tell you: there are some things in a high school dumpster on a hot June day that you don’t want to see, let alone smell. The whole thing reeked of formaldehyde, reminding me of the fetal pigs we had dissected in biology my sophomore year. All I could think was, “It stinks in here, it’s hot out here, and I am going to fail typing!” Not to mention, the horrible image of a zombie fetal pig chasing me out of the dumpster would not leave my mind.
The bad news is that all the lost items were never recovered. The good news is that zombie fetal pigs remain a product of my overactive imagination. The great news: I didn’t fail. The expected “C” merely dropped to a “D.” If I had only known that, then dumpster diving for homework would never have been an option.
Looking back now, I realize that the whole ordeal—sunburn, formaldehyde fumes, and the tragic loss of Rocky IV—wasn’t really about homework at all. It was about something far more ordinary and far more important: paying attention to what matters before it becomes urgent.
I had heard the announcements. I had known the assignments were due. I had known the lockers were being cleaned out. But at that point in life, I lived in the comfortable illusion that tomorrow always comes, that consequences always wait, and that responsibility can be postponed until it’s convenient.
Life, however, has a way of handing us “dumpster moments”—those times when we suddenly realize that what we ignored yesterday is now bigger than we might be able to handle alone..
Scripture speaks to this with gentle clarity:
“Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time…” — Ephesians 5:15–16
Wisdom isn’t dramatic. Most of the time, it looks like doing the small things today that prevent the big messes tomorrow.
May we walk wisely. May we listen early. And may we turn our spiritual assignments in on time.