Lesson from my Lesser Self

My lesser self is always present. Sometimes her voice is louder than others and most often, the darkest thoughts never get aired to anyone. This time, because there was a valuable lesson I learned midstream (with help of a gut-punch from God), it's worth sharing.

I'd bought box seats for the Kristin Chenoweth concert. She's such a tiny little 'thang that I wanted to make sure someone's head wasn't obscuring our view. Once seated, I was pleased.. I was concerned about how to get Patty quickly down to the stage and took the time to discover a speedy way downstairs. (See previous blog if you don't understand what I just said.) I was more than just excited about a wonderful show. I was nervous about the potential of having a sold out crowd stare directly at me while I sold my star to Kristin at the appropriate moment. (Again. see previous blog.)

It's important to point out that I have three serious peeves during indoor performances:

1. People who smack their gum. To be really honest, that bugs me all the time. A lot.

2. People who talk loudly and often.

3. People that sing along with the soloist or group. I've been known to turn around and with a smile say, "If I'd wanted to hear you sing, I'd have bought tickets to your concert."

The lights were down, the intro video had aired and Kristin was onstage in all her tiny glory. Even with her Dolly sized wig, she couldn't have weighed more than 85 pounds. Darling. I was in awe of the power of the voice blasting out of that body when I heard loud talking. 

#2!

#2 can be forgivable if it happens early and just once. Patty noticed too and we shared concerned frowns. The next few times I gave the "over the shoulder slight grimaced look" to the offender. 

When #3 peeve began, I was only slightly relieved that Patty couldn't hear the voice. It was monotone and consistent.

I did my best to focus so fully on the good things of the concert, that I'd "rise above" the uncivilized person behind me. 

I was more than annoyed before intermission and I told Patty I was ready to "pummel the person behind me." Not kidding.

There were two particularly moving songs that I was focusing on when I heard in my heart, "Lori, consider the other person's story before you open your mouth." Just after, I heard an elderly woman's voice say, "Don't sing so loudly." The voice was loving, yet firm. I had that aha moment. "There is something wrong there, Lori. Stop judging and acting like an idiot."

As we were getting up for intermission, I told Patty my suspicion. I bent down to get my 20 pound purse and glanced over to see a grey haired woman with a worn face and the sweetest eyes smiling at me. My guess was she was in her late 70's or early 80's. Sitting next to her was a young man, probably 20-something. His eyes had the familiar double folds of a person with Down Syndrome. 

The young man was abeam with joy. I heard him say, "Momma, thanks for bringing me to see April." I remembered at once that I'd heard that same voice say during an ovation, "Way to go April." I won't air my thought at the time because it's too snarky and rude, especially in light of my new information.

April is a character that Kristin Chenoweth plays intermittently on Glee. Based on his comment, it's possible that Glee may have been this man's introduction to the talent of Kristin.

I'm sure the mother is no stranger to rude people and their inappropriate behavior to her child--even those who can look at him and recognize by sight that he has limitations. If I'd have been that mother, I'd have flashed a "go to Hades look" my way at intermission. She smiled at me, though.

I'm so grateful that I listened to God's instruction. Not simply because it altered my negative attitude; but, because knowing something of this woman and man's story enhanced the remainder of the show. Instead of feeling angry and annoyed, I was teary eyed with joy and tenderness. 

I listened as he sang with joy and intensity. His volume would be adjusted after I heard a quick "shhh" from his mother. He couldn't contain his excitement. I understood. 

I'd posted numerous times on Facebook about my evening. I'd told everyone who'd listen. I was downright giddy. In addition, before even considering whom I would be seated beside, I fully intended to do whatever was necessary to get Patty on the stage. Would this have been any less annoying to my fellow box seat patrons? Would I have been #2 on someone else's peeve list? I didn't want to contain my excitement about seeing my friend sing with a legend. I wanted to be a part of the story-telling that would get bolder and funnier over the years.

We're all limited. This young man's physical characteristics helped me understand something of his limitations. Yet, what about those who do not have tell-tale signs of a physical or mental issue? My limitations may not be so obvious to those seated around me in a public arena. But in a quiet place in my heart that night, I realized that I'm limited by myopic expectation for others to enhance my life experiences. I'm limited by my poor choices. I'm also limited because of my humanness. We all are. We can never know the full story of others, even those we know intimately. 

My lesser self taught me that grace is always the best response. I give God the credit for pulling me out of a shameful event if I hadn't listened. I'm so very grateful for a God who understand limitations like none other.

Philippians 2

Holman Christian Standard Bible (HCSB)

5 Make your own attitude that of Christ Jesus,

6 who, existing in the form of God,

did not consider equality with God 

as something to be used for His own advantage.

7 Instead He emptied Himself 

by assuming the form of a slave, 

taking on the likeness of men. 

And when He had come as a man

in His external form,

8 He humbled Himself by becoming obedient

to the point of death—

even to death on a cross.

The part I can never wrap my head around is that He did that for a woman who, without thought, would be willing to pummel an unseen, unknown stranger for potentially ruining her night out at the theater. On top of that He offers me a chance to become more like Him and less like the lesser me. That's astounding. 

With an eye towards lavishing more grace and more love to those around me, scattering dust that will be everlasting. ~lori