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)
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