A few weeks ago, my sister, Nicolette, and I went to a concert on a random Thursday evening.
Earlier that day, my husband found tickets needed sold -badly- for the person who had originally purchased them could no longer go, which is how we scored two Zac Brown Band tickets for half price- #winnig!
A few weeks prior to this, Nicolette and I met at this same arena for the New Kids on the Block Mixed Tape tour. It rained terribly hard that evening and everything and everyone was soaked.
For the Z.B.B. (with their Owl Tour) however, there was no rain in sight and, with the exception of the person smoking pot a few rows ahead of us, the air was perfect.
So let me just get this out there: Of course, the concert was fantastic! -Of course!
The instruments, the hits, and the random outbursts of the Beastie Boy's "Sabotage", John Meyer's "Neon", and James Taylor's "Shower the People".
The most random part was the fact that I told my sister that I was mostly excited to hear "Chain Breaker" and she looked at me blankly.
"You know, it's all over Christian radio. I know you know it", I insisted.
She told me she was most excited about "Chicken Fried" and after a moment of contemplation I responded, "Sure, I suppose that can be one of theirs".
Around the time they played "Highway 20 Ride" (to which everyone was waving their phones like lighters and swaying in the dark), I took a peek at mine and realized that it is Zach Williams, not Zac Brown who does Chain Breaker, and I could finally put together all these random clues I had been witnessing all evening: like the bands poster advertisement for Z. Alexander Brown wine, the marijanua wafting in the air...and the people beside us were drunk and dancing like no one was watching ...you know what I mean.
So, great night, right?
A spontaneous concert planned in secret by my Big Strong Man, lots of fun, my sister:
All around spectacular.
But, the highlight of the evening happened prior to the start of the concert: it happened at the security table where I overheard a female voice say something to the effect of "No way, It couldn't be" and I looked up to see a young woman staring at my sister and I.
Miranda.
I recognized her immediately and after making our way through security, she and her husband, Nicolette and myself, all stood around and talked like old friends...because we are.
When I was 17 and awkward...like, very, VERY awkward, Miranda was 11 and for some reason she thought Nicolette (then 16) and I were "cool older girls".
I would never have believed this myself,
but in that circle next to security guards and metal detectors,
she insisted it was true.
Crazy as it may be to receive her words, or even to document them as I am doing here, I do not want to forget anytime soon the power of words. How they can heal, and soothe. How they can be so impactful. Miranda spoke life over the awkward 17-year old me.
*****
Dear 17 year old me,
I know it is very likely you cried yesterday because you are both so in love with the grace of Jesus that it overwhelms you (and your tear sockets) and because you cannot even force yourself up off of the couch for the weight of depression.
It doesn't even make sense, and this conundrum will take decades to figure out...
maybe a lifetime.
You have no idea all the amazing things that will become of you.
You will go to many places.
See and meet and feel.
You have no idea.
And another lifetime from now, (plus 2 years), you will be told something so life-giving that speaks to the 17-year-old you, and you will see how the story of you looked different from the outside than it did on the inside- but it is all still your story.
17-year-old me, you will be okay, and more than okay.
Love, 36-year-old you.
-gomommyblogger
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