I have days where my best-laid plans fall apart, moments where someone else's poor choice spills a mess all over my nice design for the week, and disappointments that leave me feeling drained, frustrated, and mad. They tend to be moments when I reach for the cuss words I keep stored in my back pocket for just such times as this. I'm willing to bet you have days and moments like this as well, but probably without the cuss words.
The thing is, these moments don't come often. My life is truly charmed with grace and blessing in abundance. But when they do come, they're infrequent and surprising enough to derail my normally sunny disposition. In other words, I whine and complain. That is until I remember "the right people." You know, the people gifted to our path that bring us to our knees in humility, remind us to "get over ourselves," and look again at the life we're so blessed to have and live. And they do so without any self-righteous judgments, chastising words, or indictments to stop whining. Instead, these "right people" are gracious, open, and thoughtful, embracing life with everything in them. They're not even aware anyone is watching how they live. Rather, they show us by unassuming example how to honor and treasure the breath we're so privileged to breathe.
But here's what I know: If ever there were people who deserved the right to complain, cuss, and scream, they would be it. They are people who have every reason to act differently than they do by what they must live into every day. Some have a debilitating disease that's working hard to rob them of their mobility. Some have an incurable illness, ever threatening the length of their life. Some have had their hearts torn to shreds by the unexpected death of someone they love, or by a death they had to watch, come. Others are in the midst of living with a pending loss, an excruciating reality that makes it hard to breathe and can't be described, so unthinkable is its terror. Others still are the family, friends, and caregivers,... loved ones,... who faithfully carry and hold all that the rest of us never see.
And yet, in place of being defined by what they've lost or are losing these "right people" choose to live. They refuse to be defined by circumstances that make their lives difficult, challenging, and on some days unbearable. They embrace, instead, the opportunity to take a boat ride, with friends, even though their limiting mobility makes it challenging to get on and off the boat. In the midst of learning the need for more cancer treatment, they plan a tailgate party for the upcoming Clemson-Wake Forest football game with those they love. They happily support a friend's small business efforts while graciously caring for the ongoing needs of many others. They create a foundation in memory of their beloved son to help some older adults have decent housing. They have conversations about life though death is lurking, keep giving and sharing even as life keeps taking, and offer compassion, help, and wisdom when their own hearts are breaking. They sing songs of hope and love even as others dismiss them and their life as wrong. They stand up for others when their dog tired and just want to go bed, show up for someone hurting, and listen to the pain of another when their own pain is tender to the touch, and they see those whom the world has forgotten, when they themselves have been overlooked. They are "the right people" not because they're better, smarter, richer, or have more faith. Rather, it's their hard-won, often tedious, daily choices that make them "right." Regardless of their circumstances, they get up every day, embracing life as a gift not to be taken for granted.
Are these dear souls perfect, without a bad day or maddening moment to their name? No. Are their horrendous challenges and overwhelming circumstances to be celebrated as something God given to make them stronger, wiser, and somehow better for the pain they and their loved ones endure? ABSOLUTELY NOT! Do they sometimes scream, "WHY GOD?!," cuss, snap at those trying to help, feel defeated and discouraged, and sob with deep pain and sadness? Yes. Yes. Are there some whose dire circumstances are so great that they remain bitter, unhappy, angry and alone? Tragically, oh so tragically, yes. They are all as human as the rest of us. But "the right people" I'm thinking about have one difference. They have discovered and found a way to hold onto the gift that life is.
These "right people" know life's fragility in some ways we may not. In place of their circumstances limiting them, their vision is bright and understanding keen. They take very few things for granted. They are ever curious about the world around them, are grateful for every gift, and delight in every wonder that greets them. The spider spinning her web is as miraculous as a new galaxy. They love the people around them with abundant intention and joyfully welcome new friends to the table, believing God has just granted one more gift their way. They have a deep desire for justice, a hunger to learn, and are determined to make a difference for good. The stories of both friends and strangers are ones they want to know. Life, and all that's in it, is sacred to them in ways that I often forget and see. And it's this, that makes them, "right."
And by their witness, I'm called back to what I already know. I too can and want to be about all of these things. Life IS sacred to me and to you, as well, I bet. We know and see all of what these "right people" do. We've only perhaps misplaced it by upsetting disappointment and paralyzing need. We just need somebody, "right," to come along and remind us again of the sacred gift of life before us. Mercifully, they've come. They're here. Look around. Even now there is someone "right" before you. ... before me. Better still, maybe you're the one being "right" for another. Maybe I am. I sure hope so. Life is too sacred and good for us not to be "right."
Blessings, Leslee
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