Kick Off Those Graveclothes!

Let's face it; we've all got issues. Sometimes getting out and doing something different gives us a chance to focus on something other than ourselves for an hour or two, and that can only be a good thing.

It was a surprise when my husband suggested we pick up some food, pack up some lawn chairs and head to a music-in-the-park event near where he works. We'd never heard of the scheduled band before, but what could be better than spending a summer evening kicked back and relaxing, surrounded by other people doing the same? I eagerly signed on.

The night didn't disappoint. Instead of using our chairs we sat on sun-baked rocks set in amphitheater style around a grassy space fronted by a stage. On it a three-man band was already giving the still-growing crowd their all. Covered in sweat in the lingering heat of the day, they played song after song without missing a beat, a boogie move, or even taking a break. They clearly were making the most of this opportunity to entertain.

The crowd wasn't nearly as energetic. Seated as Jim and I were on the edge of the square, we were in a perfect spot to people-watch as they sat in groups scattered all over the lawn, chatted with friends they ran into, or stood in line at the food trucks in the rear. Once parked in their seats, however, most people turned lazy, and crowd participation to even the most beloved of songs was limited to hand waving or wiggling a little bit in their chairs, ignoring the band's encouragement to get up and dance.

Suddenly we were shaken out of our lethargy by a peculiar sight. A young man with developmental disabilities had moved to a spot in front of the stage and was giving a performance of his own. Looking to be about 20 years old or so, he was strumming a toy guitar, singing and giving the moment all he was worth. To the crowd's delight, the band invited him onto the platform to finish the song with them! Oh, the joy on the boy's face! He bounded onstage, and back to back, he and the lead guitar player rocked hard to the end of the song! It was a glorious way to end a set; the band led the applause for young “Jackson” as they broke for a brief intermission.

The storm clouds that had been gathering in the distance during the last couple of hours were growing darker and moving closer all the time. During the break the event promoter decided that for safety's sake the night should end a little earlier than planned. Even as the wind started to pick up, the band came back on stage and said they would do two songs in closing. People slowly started gathering their things, packing their lawn chairs in their bags and saying goodbye to the people they had been sitting with. When the stage lights blew over during the final song and had to be propped back up by willing hands in the crowd, it was evident that it was time to quit.

But somehow Jackson missed the memo. He had continued his enjoyment of the night after the break, still strumming, singing, prancing between rows of chairs, working the crowd. The band ended with Kenny Loggin's “Footloose”, and as they sang “kick off the Sunday shoes”, Jackson sent his flip-flops flying off his feet! He was reluctant to leave and clearly the last to give up the fun and go home.

I thought about him a lot over the next couple of days. Like him, I seem to be surrounded by people my age who are more focused on leaving than living. Having settled in their chairs of late, their participation in life has diminished as their focus on the end of the same has increased. They are simply living out their last two songs, making decisions based on how much time they figure they have left. Sometimes it is a serious illness that has prompted the mindset, or perhaps the loss of a loved one that reminds them that their time on earth has an approaching end. Their swan song has rightly become “Live Like You Were Dying”, but their focus on the dying rather than the living shows they have completely missed the point of the ballad.

Jackson helped me get it right that night. Nobody in all that crowd had a better time that evening than he did. He fully entered in, despite, maybe because of his current situation. The one who seemed “challenged” taught me that WE are the ones with disabilities if we let the storm clouds gathering on our individual horizons rob us of the living we've still got left to do. It's evidence of how much God loves us that He sends the Jacksons among us to free us of the burial wrappings which our thinking and our speaking are slowly but surely winding around us.

His message is simple: When the curtain falls on your performance on earth, may it find you still dancing for all you are worth!

“Seize life! Eat bread with gusto, drink wine with a robust heart. Oh yes – God takes pleasure in your pleasure! Dress festively every morning. Don't skimp on colors and scarves. Relish life with the spouse you love each and every day of your precarious life. Each day is God's gift. It's all you get in exchange for the hard work of staying alive. Make the most of each one! Whatever turns up, grab it and do it. And heartily!...”

(Ecclesiastes 9:1-10 MSG)