I think I’m finally beginning to get it: If we’re going to make a positive difference in this world, we must choose to focus not on what we’ve lost, but rather on what remains.
It’s a truth God has been trying to etch upon my heart, and He has recently given me an opportunity to see it beautifully lived out through some dear friends …
Everything about Cathy screams, “THIS is a dancer.” She looks and walks like a ballerina, exuding grace with every move. Cathy has been immersed in the world of ballet for decades, returning to Greenwood a few years ago to open her own dance studio.
Lest I sound more refined than I really am, let me confess that ballet has never been my thing. I didn’t take dance as a child; I was too busy scraping up my knees playing sports. Some of my friends were budding ballerinas and when I saw the “prissy” costumes they had to wear, I determined I’d never trade in my tennis shoes for ballet slippers. Any time I tried to imagine myself on stage in a tutu, visions of the dancing hippos in “Fantasia” always came to mind.
As an adult, I’m still rather unsophisticated when it comes to my entertainment preferences. I prefer small doses of the fine arts – a little classical music now and then, an occasional stroll through an art gallery, a dab of ballet here and there. But I always try to attend the performances my friend Cathy stages every spring with her ballet students. The kids are great and the program is always inspirational, but I really go because I love to see Cathy dance.
Her knees ache every day; she says she isn’t technically as sharp as she used to be; she says she can’t do all the moves she used to do. Cathy sees what she’s lost and that makes it hard and humbling for her to perform. But when she takes the stage, the rest of us get to see what remains … and it is elegant, graceful, inspiring and very, very professional.
I recently asked another dear friend to share with the ladies of our church some of the practical wisdom she’s gleaned from 88 years of living. She agreed to do it but was a little reluctant at first, giving me several reasons why she didn’t think she’d do a good job. I realized that my friend was seeing only what she feels she has lost – the ability to think as quickly, remember as well, or communicate as clearly – while the rest of us see her as a walking gold mine of wisdom, joy and encouragement.
When I’m with her, I never think about what my friend can no longer do; I see, enjoy and love only the many beautiful things that remain.
Moses said he couldn’t speak well; Gideon argued that he was the puniest member of the weakest family in the land; David was too young; Abraham and Sarah were too old; Peter was a salty, impulsive fisherman. But God powerfully used them all. And He wants to use us, too, because He doesn’t focus on what’s missing; He sees what’s there.
And God plus anything — or even nothing at all — is more than enough.
2 Corinthians 12:0 — “But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’”