What I've been learning recently is how important it is to show up. To be eager and excited. To be present. To be the best "you" you can possibly be. To keep commitments. To be ready for the unexpected. To give it your all even when you feel as if there's no point. Y'all, if we're not living our lives like this, then we're not thriving.
thrive
1. to prosper; be fortunate or successful.
2. to grow or develop vigorously; flourish
(definition from www.dictionary.com)
Last night I had an open mic at a bar in downtown Green Bay. It was my first time performing there, and I had absolutely NO idea what to expect. Plus it was a bar. I was a little nervous you could say. So, naturally, I invited my two friends to come along with me. I walked in with Friend #1, guitar in my hand, choker around my neck, ready for a night filled with good music and good vibes... and there was literally, I kid you not, three other people in the room. THREE. Two of them were on stage performing. The other guy was sitting at a table watching them perform eating french fries and drinking a beer. I am not exaggerating here, folks.
THERE WAS ONLY ONE GUY IN THE AUDIENCE. ONE GUY.
Once I realized how not-hoppin' this place was, I turned to Friend #1 and just started nervously laughing. Was this some kind of joke? I got all dressed up, put on eye liner for once, and was so excited to play one of the songs I had just recently written... not expecting this at all. My smile turned flat along with my excitement.
Nevertheless, I found the sign-up list for the open mic and wrote my name next to #2. Friend #1 and I found a table to sit at and watched the two performers on stage. After each song, there was an awkward clap from a total of three people. I just kept laughing to myself thinking, "Is this for real?" I still couldn't believe what I had just gotten myself into. There were two things I was thinking I could do at this point:
- Cross my name off the list and get the heck out of there.
- Reluctantly drag my feet on stage to perform.
- Show up.
Yes, there is a difference between #2 and #3. And I decided #3 was the best option. I was going to give it my all. I was going to thrive. I was going to show up.
After all, Friend #1 did that for me. He totally rejected free Packer tickets for that night (FREE PACKER TICKETS, Y'ALL.) just to come with me to the open mic. If that isn't the definition of showing up, then I don't know what is.
After act #1 performed, it was my turn. I walked up on stage and started playing. Let me tell you, I learned how extremely uncomfortable it can be to sing your diary on stage in front of a small group. You don't know where to look. Should I make eye contact with people in the audience or just stare at the back wall? Yeah, it's awkward and weird.
But I did it anyway. And even though I was playing for a whopping total of four people, the door to the venue was open. The monitors were loud. People were walking by, hearing me. There was a bar on the other side of the building. People gradually started walking in, one by one. All because I showed up.
And so did Friend #2, eventually. Halfway through my last song, I saw Friend #2 walk in the door and take a seat by Friend #1. Later he apologized for being late and told me it was because he didn't know he was supposed to have a meeting that night with his dorm floor. He convinced his RA to give him a 7-minute version before he came. All because he wanted to show up.
On my drive home that night, I cranked up the music and had my windows rolled down. I was so joyful, even though that night was completely unexpected and disappointing. Why was I joyful then, you may ask? Because I showed up, gave it my all, and thrived - even when things didn't go exactly how I expected them too. I could've walked out of that door. But I chose not to because I decided to show up. And so did my friends. And seeing them sacrifice the things they could've done that night for a janky open mic at a lonesome bar to see me perform literally meant the world to me.
It's hard to show up. It's not easy by any means. It would've been easy for Friend #1 to accept those Packer tickets and then say that he had something come up and couldn't make it. It would've been easy for Friend #2 to text me later saying that he had a meeting he forgot about instead of finding a way around it. It would've been easy for me to walk out of those doors when I saw that there was only one person in the audience.
But what good does that do for the soul? How are you supposed to prosper and flourish and thrive if you live a life of excuses and betrayal of your commitments? Bluntly put, a life lived like that will only drag you down deeper into a pit of laziness and self-righteousness.
You know who also showed up? Like, really showed up? This guy named Jesus. He had every good reason in the world to not. But he did anyway. He became one of us, for us. He didn't walk out the door once he physically felt what living in this messy world was like. Even though he could've partied in heaven or at a Packer game with all of his angel buddies, he decided to follow through with what he committed to - to be the one to die an excruciating death on a cross for our sins.
How beautiful is that? He makes me want to show up all the more.
I hope my story and the story of Jesus encourages you to show up. Don't ever hesitate. It truly will mean the world to someone else, even if it's the guy eating french fries and drinking a beer.
