Yesterday, I went to a Special Olympics basketball tournament. Today, I watched the Superbowl with some friends. I went from watching some of the worst athletes to watching some of the best players, I also went from watching some of the best human beings to watching some of the worst. (Don't get me wrong there were some remarkable players on the Special Olympic teams, I would have gotten squashed by many of the players yesterday. There are also some good human beings playing in the Super Bowl today, I know that too. But when a quarterback is allegedly accused of sexual misconduct 3 times in a year and is only benched for a couple of games...it makes me wonder what we value.)
As I sat and cheered and jumped and yelled yesterday (I am really quite an obnoxious fan when it comes to the kids I love), I was truly amazed. You see when your body doesn't do what your mind tells it to do, or your mind is keeping you so distracted from what is right in front of you...well, other things like scoreboards and points or time clocks and rules just don't matter much any more. Knowing you are loved and valued, that's what needs to be celebrated. I remember watching a kid shoot the ball and miss but look over to their parents who yelled "Good job! Good try!", that child had the biggest smile of contentment and joy on their face. In the 3 games I watched yesterday, there was more celebrations and accomplishments than in any football field in America. For these athletes, trying and knowing those who love them was watching was the most important success. The Special Olympics athlete oath is "Let me win. But if I don't, let my attempt be brave."
We keep pushing off the celebrations until it "means" something, looking for the one that has enough zeros. Zeros are overrated. Scoreboards are overvalued. We shouldn't wait to celebrate anything. We should celebrate everything and everyone. Winning isn't in the final tally but in the bravery of participants is the true measure of success.
This thought has been running in my head recently: "Be quick to love." God loves us quickly at the moment of our existence without hesitation, even knowing the people we become. I wonder often if I am able to do this as well as I should. I began to think of the person I know right now who does and the one who comes to mind is Isaac, a fifteen year old boy with down syndrome. Isaac is not perfect. He gets over excited, occasionally doesn't listen, says things he shouldn't and likes to rough house (he has three older brothers...need I say more). Isaac is the only one I know who loves instantly without the need to be loved in return. He greets at our church with a couple of young men, who he calls brothers. He instantly has fallen for these boys. Truthfully, Isaac falls for anyone instantly. At Christmas, he came over to my house for an evening, he walks into my kitchen and shakes my mom's hand and says "you're pretty." (This still brings tears to my eyes). When he comes to class on Sunday mornings, he is greeted with a superstar welcome. Many of the kids rush to the door, to hug him or shake his hand or simply jump up and down together to say hi. He walks around the room, shaking hands or hugging kids. He stops and brushes the face of child in a wheelchair, stoops down and says "I love you." Isaac is a giant of a man in a boy's body. His bravery is shown in the way he loves, not in the way he plays any game.
I want to be brave like Isaac.
