Whispering Lyrics

Taken for granted is the sight we now see

Is this ever-growing obsession to see things immediately and with such passing brevity subversively eroding the very fabric of our soul?  You’re probably wondering – where is this going?

Concern, that’s all.  At times, I must admit, that I have feared the onset of some unknown cancer growing deep within me, especially as I grow older.  Maybe you have too.  However, it seems that the malignancy that is consuming the space inside is currently rooted in something else.  Perhaps I’m simply aware of an acute recognition of un-remarkability within or even a loss of imagination and the space for it to live. Either way – it seems as of late that awe and wonder are far from my sight.

Certainly, in our current culture, any one of us can fixate on extremely brief moments characterized from the amazing to mundane idiocy with the mere swipe of a finger.  I suppose that I would prefer to cast blame on something as irresponsible as social media and its tug to captivate audiences with 10 second visual blasts, or 140 (now 280) character assassinating quips that never seem to take responsibility for the spoiled brat sitting behind the keyboard. Wow! That was harsh! Not really.

Honestly, I can’t blame others for the way I’m currently feeling. Responsibility lies within to make the changes necessary to see life for what it is.  At times, seeing life as wonderful isn’t always easy.  Especially, when my brother calls and reminds me of all the terrible things happening all over the world, every day, and I’m having a hard time seeing what’s right in front of me.

Actually, I am having a hard time seeing – one of my eyes has some current issues and has for the past 2 weeks – completely blurry – sudden onset. It’s a bit disconcerting.  But probably a reflection of something going on within the depth of who I am, more than just the physical eye problem.  (And yes, it’s getting looked into.)

This sudden onset of impaired vision reminded me of my mom’s lengthy struggle with macular degeneration (of which, I do not have). Later in life, mom began to lose the quality of her eyesight which included “splotchy” (her words) vision – along with loss of color.  It’s difficult for anyone to lose their vision.  For mom, who was an artist, I can’t really begin to imagine what that was like.

I recall Sunday mornings standing next to mom, half-whispering lyrics to the upcoming line in the hymn we were singing.  She could no longer see the words on the page in front of her – but she so longed to sing along – to be a part of the praises lifted by the surrounding community.  For years, I had led people in worship and periodically would speak out a leading line prior to singing it with the congregation. For me – doing so for my mom was effortless.  This was simply what I did in these moments to help her find her voice.

It didn’t seem a big deal to me at the time – but for her – it meant so much.  She loved to be able to sing out!  For mom, it was a gift of love.

Love isn’t always effortless – but when it is – you may not even notice you’re giving it away.

I have always loved singing. Likewise, I also loved singing with my mom.  It was of course, never a chore to help her with, well…anything…at least as best as I can remember our later years together.  Funny though, at times, I can recall a “younger me” often feeling inconvenienced by requests to “help out” or to “pitch in” – usually coming at times that conflicted with my busy schedule.  Perhaps, helping out, did become a “chore” as a result of being too consumed with the possession of my time.  If you would have known me even 10 years ago – you may or may not have recognized the subversive donning of a well-intentioned Messiah complex (I felt the need to be there for everyone and anyone who I thought needed me). My day was littered with busyness and a workaholic schedule where “time” became a coveted possession, which unfortunately resulted in some people taking on the identity of a “chore” as opposed to a person.

I suppose that is what happens when “time” becomes a possession as opposed to a gift.

Maybe, not being able to see things clearly, for the time being – has given me the opportunity to see things with greater clarity that I haven’t been looking at of late.

There is so much stuff demanding our attention. 

There are so many voices screaming out to be heard.

Distractions that subvert our attention from those who matter most fill up our lives and overflow.

What does it take to remind a world that people matter?

What will it take to change the direction that you and I may be headed?

Is it a cleverly written post? Maybe a 30-minute podcast? A return to a forgotten God?

How quickly that which was fearfully and wonderfully made can be undone.

Perhaps, I am just too self-consumed lately, and I just don’t know how to get out.

 

Does anyone make the time to look anymore?

Love isn’t always effortless – but when it is – you may not even notice you’re giving it away.

When it is an effort – may you and I make the time to look, to see beyond the surface, to find the person behind disparaging words and attitudes.  May we be a “light” to those who have been left behind in the wake of those we consider fools and villains.  And, may you say something worthwhile in those moments, whether with words, or with the time you have to give as a gift.

What would that look like for you?