Who are we not to be?

My name is Carly and I am not the most consistent blogger anymore. Trust me, I have a few good stories I'd like to tell that are tucked away in my journal, but the deeper I get into my coursework, the more papers I have to write, and the more tired I get of having to create, structure, and edit papers (my journal doesn't grade too harshly when I use "their" instead of "her.") Therefore, most of my exciting stories have not made my way to the world wide web just yet. And you better believe my life is full of exciting stories. I mean, I ate a whole can of Lima beans the other day.

Other than eating vegetables traditionally rejected by society, I've been interning with a special-needs Sunday School class the past two semesters. The handful of individuals that I spend my Sunday mornings with have taught me lots about God's love. We have laughed together, been sad together, and learned together. They ask every week about my family and friends, even ones they have never met. They care about people, and they never cease to amaze me.

Part of my internship entails home visitation. Just about every week I visit the group home where the ladies in the Sunday School class live. In total, there are about 15 residents who live in the home where they eat, sleep, and live life together. Most of the residents are high functioning, but aren't quite capable of living on their own. This living option allows them to live independently of their parents, while still being given any extra care they might need. They basically are at camp all year round, and I'm kinda jealous.

I've gotten the privilege to build relationships with most of the ladies there, and as soon as I walk in the front door on Saturdays I am reminded that I am loved by their warm welcome. This afternoon I happen to arrive before their talent show. Yea, TALENT SHOW! They totally are at camp all year round.

Beforehand, a few of the ladies I talked to were excited about the talent show, informing me they would be performing a George Strait or Kenny Rogers song. However, about half of the ladies I talked to had decided they wouldn't be doing anything.

We gathered in the living room and were waiting for the first person to perform. All of a sudden, Elizabeth stood up. Elizabeth is one of the members of my Sunday School class, and had told me she wouldn't be participating in the talent show. I've known her for almost 2 years, and appreciate her gentle disposition. It didn't seem out of character for her to not want to sing in front of everyone.

I was taken by surprise as she took her walker to the front and began to sing. We all watched and listened to her beautiful voice. She put everything into that song, singing from the bottom of her heart. When she was done, we clapped, and she sat back down.

Immediately after that, a few of the ladies ran to their rooms to go get their own CDs so they could sing. They had also originally chosen not to participate, but now they were inspired. One by one, each of the ladies got up and performed some sort of dance and/or song. From that I was reminded of the quote by Marianne Williamson;

And as we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fears, our presence automatically liberates others.

You could see the joy on their faces as they spun around the room or swayed back and forth. Busting out Elvis, Reba, or a song about Columbus, it didn't matter if someone sang more in tune than someone else- we weren't comparing. It was understood that each person had something equally important to contribute. As they took turns, they spurred one another to share, until almost every person, even the ones who were shy at first, were given a time to sing. Every time someone would get done singing, we would all clap and cheer as if to say "that was great! You're so special!" Then they would sit down and clap for someone else as if to say in return "hey, you're special too!"

For those 30 minutes, I got to experience the joy of people living into their full potential. By letting their light shine, they created a space that allowed others to do so as well.

In a world where we focus on the age, stature, financial status, criminal records, and IQ of a person, today I am thankful to have the opportunity to see people through a different lens. I am thankful to have  participated in celebrating what gives the world light. I am thankful to have been reminded no matter how inadequate I think I am, I do have a light to shine.

This experience intrudes my soul and beckons me to ask myself the question posed by Marianne Williamson later on in her poem;

Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

Actually, who are we not to be?

How will you let your light shine?