Shine On

Last night, I accompanied Fisher to volunteer as a buddy at Night To Shine- an event to serve and celebrate the special needs community. We were at the Christ Church location in Jax. Oh, what a night. If you can name an emotion, it was available somewhere on the premises. Of the many impressions the night made on me, these are the thoughts still lingering in the afternoon aftermath of the following day.

*UPDATE- It has taken an extra day and a half to edit and upload this post properly. 

 >>Fisher<<

 This past year, Fisher and I discussed that he has a soft place in his heart for the special needs community. When two of his particular heroes (Brant Hansen & Tim Tebow)  both promoted Night To Shine, it seemed providential to participate. I hope that the desire to love and serve others is a quality that continues to snowball downhill into his life.

 >>Valor<<

These are real men. Manly men. Valiant leaders who love and serve others. The sort I hope will find my daughters in years to come and the kind I hope my sons continue to become. Because, it is indeed becoming.

 >>Virtue<<

And these are the sort of gals I hope my three sons seek to find, the kind of ladies I hope my daughters remain.  Compassionate and patient, the sort unafraid to take the hand of an underdog and dance the night away. Because, as it turns out, we are all underdogs.

 >>Value <<

From where I was standing, we never knew who was walking in on the red carpet. And it didn't matter- we were there to cheer and celebrate everyone.  We would hear applause rising from outside and watch as each new guest rode a wave of celebration in the door. Lord, help this be my default position with everyone I meet.

>>Take Care<<

 I really hoped that parents and caretakers felt clapped for as well... because I was celebrating them too. While we enjoyed working together as a team of volunteers to throw a party for a few hours, and while we could all grin and shake our heads at how much energy was expended to pull it all off, it is the caretakers who attend the needs of our guests on a daily basis. It isn't festive nor glamorous. There aren't a team of volunteers. Every day is not a dance floor, but every day they extend their energies once more. They are faithful, tenacious people and they have my applause.

>>Silent Applause<<

When we make up our mind to, we can work together for the sake of even just one person. We can ascertain what is needed and adjust to accommodate.  Obviously this is true of a large event requiring volunteers and attention to details medical and minute. But the picture of cooperation and deference was most vivid to me when we had sound sensitive or hearing impaired guests make their entrance. Less than 50 ft stretched between us and the start of the red carpet. Even so, we were quick to assess which kind of applause was called for and adjust our clapping into silent waves accordingly.

 >>Kinfolk<<

Sometimes, "church" makes me break out in bouts of hives and 'to-Heck-with-its', other times I'm right proud to be kin. This was the kind of family gathering that made me beam...look at great aunt Sally serving carrots and there goes cousin George doing the Electric Slide... we were all there of one accord and it was beautiful.

>>Night To Shoe Shine<<

Shoe shining needs to make a comeback into our everyday lives. There'd be less call for bartenders if more folks kicked their day off with a shine. 

SIDENOTE: Fisher may have been the only fella donning white shoes at our location. At the end of the night, the shoeshine guys bestowed him with admiration and their sole can of white polish- unopened.

>>Big C, Little C<<

Best. Church. Service. Ever.

Seriously, why isn't this just another Sunday morning ? Aren't we celebrating then too? Then again, aside from some charismatic auditoriums, if this were a Sunday morning, we'd all be featured on an episode of Wretched, I have no doubt. 

* A bunny trail of additional thoughts were here but they were distracting, and anyway, I accidentally lost them while trying to find the least distracting place to footnote them. I know there are friends who will not be comfortable with the secular nature of this event. I have other friends who would mistakenly label those friends as legalistic. I get where both are coming from and find that I come down wobbly right on the blurry dividing line. I can be reached via comments or email if either party feels my two cents worth will help them sleep better tonight... ha! 

 >>Diamonds<<

Riley made a new friend, Renae. They both like Elsa and their conversations were filled with sporadic hugs. At the end of the night, as they said goodbye, Renae gave Riley her special Night To Shine medal. It was a gesture my first reflex was to protest ("Thank you, but that's your special medal to remember the night by.") and yet how could I interfere with such a selfless act of friendship? Rye wants me to set up a play date ASAP and spent the day writing many letters to her new friend.

She later expressed that her friend was 'just there for fun. I don't think she had special needs.'  Without labels, people are just friends. Children seem to grasp that a whole lot better than us older, supposedly wiser folks.

Everyone was wearing lanyards (you could even think of them as actual labels if you wanted to) - the volunteers wore them to declare what their specialty was, the buddies to identify their place alongside a party guest and the party guests to identify any diet or medical information the buddy might need to know.  At various stations throughout the night, I watched exchanges where volunteers weren't immediately clear who was who. In those moments, until a closer look at one's lanyard was taken, the presumption was to treat everyone with kindness and deference, as an invited guest.

In these fleeting moments, how we ought to behave towards each other was made breathtakingly clear, like diamonds held to light.

I still feel guilty about the medal.  

>>Candice <<

Riley needed a pit stop so we found ourselves in the ladies room just off the main dance floor. As we were washing hands to leave, a tall party guest in a beautiful purple dress and crystal tiara walked in looking very regal. She immediately smiled real big and threw her arms wide open. We hugged like old friends before she pulled back and said "I love you." I told her that I love her too...for indeed, instantly it was true. Her friend and I hugged as well. We all shared a wonderful chat about the fire alarm ("Don't touch it." said Candice, "I won't." I promised)

I thought briefly to take their picture before deciding against the ladies room as a backdrop. Though we crossed paths again I never did get to snap a picture with either of them. It is my only regret from the evening.

But such a nice exchange, I won't soon forget.

It made me realize that we were not in attendance as volunteers after all. We were exceptionally well paid to be there. As it turns out, we volunteers arrived with similar needs as our invited guests: friendship and unflinching love. All along we'd been under the impression we were there to meet their needs, but in the end, they had spent the evening meeting ours. 

We were made to feel welcome by a group of people who could've easily dismissed us over differences. We were invited to forget about our burden-laden selves and dance like no one was watching. We laughed and embraced, we sang and made many new friends. 

We were loved instantly, just the way we are. 

Where, this side of Heaven, can you find anything richer than that?

 

 

See More Photos From Night To Shine Jax 2016

Cup of Irony, Cup of No

A well endowed house save a few essentials...

I woke up in Madame Blueberry 's house (in a tree and everything.)

My mother-in-law is a woman who has just about everything...two and three of some things...but yesterday morning, she had no coffee pods. Lots of tea [which I love] but not a drop of the kick-in-the-pants-in-a-cup that I needed to get me up and get me thinking this particular morning.

And my father-in-law Charlie runs a proud "gourmet" kitchen... he even went to a Johnson & Wales Camp once upon a time.  Imagine my surprise when I  discovered the man has no French press,  no grinder. 

And that's what made the bag of whole coffee beans ironic.

Or was it that they were the only coffee to be found in all the house? 

Either way.

I am here to tell you that I was undeterred.

I am also here to tell you that determination alone does not the cup of coffee make.

You need many other elements.

I found the closest thing to a grinder and made. . . well, ...I made coffee nibs if we're being honest. . . but since I was already squinting, my vision unaided by "the best part of waking up",  it wasn't SO hard to believe it was just a coarse grind. . . until I tried to brew it.

The water did change colors,  I'll give me that.

No French Press,  no coffee grinder and not a single mesh strainer to be found. 

 He does have a flour sifter though.

 Oh, yes I did. 

No,  no it did not.

What I discovered was that,  however coarsely ground those beans had been, they were not too chunky to sneak through the sifter and into the mug...not to mention my mouth.

Coffee nibs are chewy bits of goodness when mixed in chocolate, not so much the morning cup of joe, in this case a morning cup of 'No'. 

I mentally demoted Charlie from Grandfather Gourmet  to chief coup stirrer. No man can climb past that rank without a mesh sieve. It just can't be done.

:: rinse everything,  load the weeble wagon and hug the folks at Baker's Pride, who not only have an appropriate cup of coffee at the ready, but a danish to wash it down with::