Anna was impressed that I learned all 20 names in 45
minutes. What she failed to realize: I
already knew the students. Eric’s the curious one, always asking her questions;
there are two April’s, one silly one and one serious; Doug is more interested
in Parkour and runs to stay in shape; Bailey has a stress fracture, but should
be healthy again for track season; Mark is running his first 5k this season;
and the list continues.
She told me their stories before practice that day. When
she’s passionate about something, her voice crescendos. Sometimes I look over
my shoulder for the band director. He must be around somewhere, raising his arms
as she bounces from student to student, quick, staccato style, a half-laugh brimming over and spilling out in her voice.
She cares…and because she cares, I care.
So I tap her on the shoulder, “Hey Anna, where’s Shawn, the
show-tune singer? And the silly April? I haven’t seen the silly April.” She laughs and introduces me to Andrew (if you
tell him to “get that guy”, he’ll “get that guy!”).
Sometimes, I imagine God talking about His people the same
way Anna talks about her cross-country team. “Ella’s hair is straight, except
for the piece she spins around her finger while reading; Jared makes Ali laugh
when he himself laughs maniacally; Elizabeth adopts children with severe
disabilities, sometimes with only a few years to live; Brad’s life is a soundtrack.
He makes up a song for everything he does!” And His list continues, an eternal
crescendo.
The other day I attended one of Anna's team's cross-country meets. One of the boys was running his first 5k that day. This particular student attends every practice, grasps for the coaches' advice, and supports his teammates even when not running himself.
While watching the meet, I grew a little confused. The first guy finished the race, grabbed some water and then ran off, faster than he'd been running during the race. The second and third guys finished the race, grabbed water, and sprinted back onto the course. Again, faster than they'd been racing. The fourth guy finished and vanished back onto the course.
After their 5k's, they'd all gone back to cheer for their teammate, the one who was running his first full race.
I know, I know...races are metaphors for life. Authors use this constantly...but I can't help but think that most people (myself included), when finished with some great feat or difficult trial, sit on a bench, drink gatorade and watch as others struggle towards the line.
And then the decrescendo, a few minor chords, the Director's hands move a little slower, smoother. His eyes close as he ushers in waves of music and dissonance. Listening to this part of the piece may prove difficult.
Sometimes Ella plays a victim of circumstances just to get attention. Jared lies to his family so they think he's okay. Elizabeth talks before thinking, hurting others in the process. Some days Brad's soundtrack ends. He refuses to get out of bed.
Yet all the while, under the dissonance lies the staccato-style undertone. It begins at a barely audible volume.
And Brad begins to sing about repotting rosemary.
There's a twinkle in the Director's eye.
All
day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these
destinations…
There
are no ordinary people.
You
have never talked to a mere mortal…
But
it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal
horrors or everlasting splendors.”
-C.S.
Lewis, The Weight of Glory
*Names changed throughout (well, except one for which
permission was given)
** Disclaimer!!! The implication is “I care.” I often don’t
care, but should. He’s still molding this clay.
