My sister is in band at her high school - and absolutely loves it. Since July, when band camp started, she's been talking practically nonstop about it. Since mid-September, our weekends have been consumed with some element of marching band, whether it's a festival, a football game, and/or preparing for a festival or football game. My mom is very involved with the band boosters and got herself elected treasurer last year, meaning we all help out with everything. My whole family is a family that pitches in with whatever we can. Sometimes - okay, always - we pitch in till we can't anymore. My dad helps with absolutely everything, too. And me? I get right in the middle of it and I love it.
I spent my first full day of fall break with my mom like this: got up early and worked out, cleaned up, ran some errands for band, ate lunch, ran more errands for band, ironed the sashes for the band uniforms and covered their colorful plumes for the big "reveal" during the show. After a rushed dinner, we booked it back up to the high school to get everyone in uniform and everything set. After the game, I helped iron the sashes again and make sure everything was good to go.
It helps when the football team is undefeated.
Tonight, we enjoyed a great game, the last home game of the regular season. The band played well, their visuals and tricks literally up their sleeve still give me the chills, and their sound just keeps improving. Tomorrow is their last festival this year and it's a big one, held at the football stadium downtown. The best bands are invited here to compete, and although my sister's high school is less than five years old, this is their first time in this festival. I am stoked.
It's been so fun helping out these past few months: prepping for games and festivals, blow-drying plumes with a hairdryer after getting stuck in the rain for the Homecoming parade, snapping photos, tucking in sashes, grabbing gloves and socks that someone forgot. I love it all.
But again, this whole perspective thing comes into play; it's like I've been seeing everything differently. I see people, band members and band parents, and wonder what they're struggling with. I hope that the way I act toward them and what I say and do can point them in a positive direction. If they know Christ, I hope to encourage them to continue to pursue him in their life, in some small way. If they don't, I hope to show a love that they have never seen before. I hope to help.
This giving-your-life-away thing isn't easy and is certainly uncertain. I'm looking for a way to do that tomorrow. It will be a long and crazy day (6:30 a.m. - somewhere around 11:30 p.m.), but I don't want to lose sight of opportunities to "be love" in the craziness, especially amidst a band seemingly always on the run.
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