Extreme
One morning this week while driving to work I finished my audio book and had to listen to the radio. Well, I suppose, I didn’t have to listen to the radio, but at the time it seemed like an attractive option. Rarely do I listen to the radio outside of NPR or the local station to get weather and traffic updates, so I spun the figurative dial (seek buttons) listening for something worth hearing.
I landed on a song that instantly transported me to another place and time in my life. I think I’ve even written about it before, but it’s been a few years and here I am a little closer to the end of my life than the beginning and so the memory begins to take on a different patina. The song was by early 90’s hair band, Extreme. In my mind, I traveled back to the top of mountain in Tennessee, evening, stars so close you thought you could touch them. The air was cool but slightly damp because we were sitting close to the edge of wood.
I was with bunch of “youth” at a church camp. It was “their night” to plan the worship service. The “youth” had come from different churches all up and down the east coast. Sometimes, this experiment of throwing a bunch of kids together who don’t know each other works well, and sometimes it is magical. This was one of the magical weeks. The community gelled. The kids really came to love each other.
The worship service was like most worship services planned by youth. A little on the cutesy and emotional side. Certainly nothing that I would call deeply spiritual. When the service came to a close, we all sat on our benches and someone cranked up the boom box to play the song by Extreme. One of the kids, a very tall, slightly awkward, probably intellectually limited boy began to sing along in a tuneless voice. Only his voice wasn’t just tuneless, it held a pure sweetness inside that tuneless-ness that makes me cry even thinking about it today. Here was a kid who had probably experienced more difficulty than all the other kids put together, teasing, hard times at school, etc. But he was still somehow pure.
Every kid on every bench sang along. I did too. There’s nothing particularly remarkable about this memory. People the world over have similar ones. However, as I look back, it was probably one of the first times I knew, without being to articulate the fact, that heaven is not necessarily an ontological space from the one we already inhabit every day. It’s right here with us, and if we open our eyes, we can, experience just a little bit of it. Time has somehow revealed this to me and in the middle of a difficult place in my life, the radio actually brought me to that truth.
Friends, don’t forget to look for heaven today.
Blessings!
Spiritual Life
Reader Comments (2)
Best. Song. Ever.
It makes ME think of study hall in high school, and the guy I had a crush on, playing his guitar . . .
Amazing, how one silly song can just transport you.
In high school, I had a crush on a boy with a mowhawk and earring. Certain Journey songs transport me back to high school band trips. And the Eagles. WE all listened to the Eagles back then...