Love Is ... Seeing.
“There’s a remarkable phenomenon that happens every day, all over the world, on playgrounds in every city. If you pay attention, you’ll notice it. It happens on the slides.
The next time you visit a playground, watch what happens right before a kid goes down the slide. They all do a version of the same thing. They all make the same instinctual gesture.
They look.
They look to see if someone is watching them, someone who loves them, someone who cares for them, someone who will acknowledge that they’re proud of them.”
I shared these beautiful words of CJ Casciotta’s the other day, along with the unimaginably heart-healing gift it is to stand at the top of the slide getting ready to sing every Sunday, and see the shining light of his presence watching.
Truly; you can see his light in a crowd ... Or at least I can.
It is such a gift.
Yesterday, I had the privilege of singing a song that has been a beacon of light on my journey. It’s one that speaks to the deep truth of love underlying everything here, and one that came to my world three years ago this very week, when I got to sing it with my favorite artist and human/man I’ve long loved from afar.
Love, by the way, is something I had no concept of before he walked into my world. The things I had learned to call by that name - the things my mother understood to be love - were absolutely not love. Her understanding of this world was so shattered, and so shattering, that she took her life with a gun in a hotel room just over a decade ago.
My work these past five years has been learning love from scratch.
Before my beloved and I sang that Sunday three years ago, I asked where he wanted harmony on the song. As I spoke those words, my heart truly meant “Are you SURE you don’t mind my repulsive presence contaminating your beautiful work of art?!“
That's the truth of what I've long believed about my presence; particularly to those who matter deeply to me. I have walked through my entire life carrying the weight of an understanding that people would literally throw up at the thought of me.
In response to my outward question about where he wanted harmony, this man who has been the most deeply healing presence ever to grace my path, the soul who brought me the truth of love, simply said “You do whatever your heart feels.“
Oh. My. Goodness.
Such amazing words for every moment in life.
And I have ever since.
Yesterday, I showed up at church to discover our music director, one of the most phenomenal hearts and voices in the universe, singing that song. I said that I loved it, and he invited me to sing it with him.
I have no words for my joy every time I get to sing with him - he’s the writer of the title song on my record and one of most exquisite voices on the planet - but singing that song with him yesterday was a whole other level.
We sang through it one time and it was like we’d been singing it all our lives; it took my breath away.
There is just no greater joy for me than the intertwining of our voices. I can sing lead when the occasion arises, but singing harmony is where my heart lives and breathes, and there is nothing I would EVER rather be doing. Just that moment of singing through it before church would’ve been enough to carry me through the end of my days.
Then something else happened.
All manner of people who have been profoundly healing on my journey started showing up in the room.
Some who are at church regularly, some who are there occasionally, and some I’d never seen there before yesterday.
CJ, with his powerful light and understanding of what happens at the top of the slides, was back for the first time since the birth of his new little one.
Donald Miller, whose book Scary Close is in my purse as we speak for my fifth reading of it, was there. It’s a book I can’t get through a page of without writing a page of my own. I had wanted to meet him for years, and had had that privilege one time, when he randomly showed up at the next table at a show my beloved did this same week last year.
Al Andrews, whom I have to thank for requesting the song we sang and I’m certain I have to thank for many of these souls gracing my morning, delivered a beautiful message of radical welcome that brought me to tears, along with the deep and powerful truth that it’s ok not to be ok.
I received the gift of the Eucharist from Ian Cron, always special knowing the space that ritual occupies for him, and especially welcoming and healing yesterday as it came with a hug.
And this, probably the most powerful gift of the day.
Last Father’s Day was one of the most painful I ever recall walking through. I could barely breathe as I carried the weight of everything the day brought up for me.
As I wept from the depths, I put on a video of a talk Miles Adcox did.
I had been following him on social media for a few years and his words were beacons on my journey. I’d met him a couple of times, but not for more than a minute or two.
For some reason his kind presence was what I needed in those painful moments, and that video absolutely saved my heart.
The next day, I went to the aforementioned show my beloved did where Donald Miller was randomly at the next table, and was stunned when Miles walked in and took the seat across from me. I believe I just stared at him mouth agape for a moment, before telling him the story of the previous day, and he wrapped me up in a big hug.
It was truly one of those moments I will never forget.
Then there was yesterday.
As I stood singing that song that is so profoundly meaningful for me, Miles stood against the back wall, watching.
It’s an image that is indelibly etched in my mind and heart ... This tall, kind presence in a white shirt, holding his precious little one I got to meet for the first time, watching this moment of my life unfold.
It. Really. Mattered.
As I stood there singing and taking in this image, I could feel years shattering wounds healing.
This need we have to be seen and known is so fundamental.
It’s also demonized and criticized at every turn, teaching us that our most basic need means there’s something wrong with us.
Narratives about the evils of our selfie culture teach us that our need to be seen is wrong.
The problem is not our selfie culture ... The problem is the rest of our culture that tells us our selfies - and our selves - don’t matter.
Narratives about kids "just doing things for attention" tend to scream at us that our need for attention is wrong.
We don't need to ask why the child is doing those things ... We need to ask why the child is not getting the attention they need.
We don’t have a selfie culture because we’re selfish, we have a selfie culture because our most basic need is to be seen and known, and so often the world screams that we’re not.
Every time our parents endeavor to shape us, rather than seeing and celebrating us.
Every time the world tells us we need to be “this” in order to be accepted, rather than who we truly are.
Every time our hearts participate in our selfie culture desperately longing to be seen, and the noble “selfless“ culture screams that it’s selfish and wrong.
Along with being fundamental to who we are as humans, this need to be seen and known it is SO EASY to meet for each other.
I can pretty much guarantee you that Miles had no idea what was happening inside me yesterday, and he did not show up intending to heal years of my wounds.
He was just there.
But let me promise you: His presence did heal years of my wounds, and that image of him standing along the back wall - watching me go down the slide - will be with me for the rest of my days.
