An intriguing title. This post is inspired by Julie’s Facebook prompt for other people to give us song titles and we would each blog about that title — the rules are loose and we are able to use the actual song, or not, depending on what seems right when we write the post. Our first title was “Footloose” and you can find her first post here, and my first post here.
At first, this song title threw me off. It’s a bit weird and even in listening to the song, I didn’t connect right away.
Then this week happened.
It’s been a trying week for sure.
This week, many of us had to say good-bye to a young man whose life was cut short.
I know that when someone dies, we all hear about how that particular person lit up the room every time he walked in a room or how she was so full of life. I’ve heard the clichés too. I’m still going to say them though — because they are so true about this young man. He loved people and loved asking 5000 questions about your life. He loved the color purple, and eating pizza. He loved Sprite and hated water. He was destined to be a weather forecaster in a place where it would forever be 80 degrees and sunny — because that was always his prediction. He loved the marching band, and especially the drum line. He showed love like no other person I’ve known.
To say a final good-bye to a person with this much love is difficult. The service was very honoring of Christian and his life .. and it served as a great reminder of hope in our sadness.
I drove away from the cemetery feeling quite sorry for myself. Sorry for his family. Sorry for his classmates. Sorry for the school staff. Sorry, sorry, sorry. I remember thinking that it was weird that the weather was so overcast, cold and rainy that day, as it had been for several days before that — because Christian was obsessed with warm weather and sunny skies. It didn’t make sense.
As I was stopped at a stoplight, however, I had to shield my eyes. I started looking for my sunglasses … and I had to laugh. Surely, this is something that only happens in the movies, right?
Not this time. This time is was real.
Sitting at the stoplight, I was suddenly confronted with this burst of sunshine through the clouds. It lasted for a few moments … and then the sun hid back behind the clouds for the rest of the day.
I stopped feeling as sorry for everything — and in that moment, I was able to feel joy for Christian. For he is somewhere, laughing and smiling through the clouds. This is where our hope comes from. From stopping and smelling the roses when they present themselves — for interruptions in thought and process.
Stoplight roses. Let us take the time to smile and smell them, wherever we are.
Check out Julie’s response to the same title on her blog. Enjoy!