True confession: Steve and I have watched every episode of American Idol this season. Every, single one. This is astounding because there are virtually no entertainment choices on which we agree. He’s sports and action movies. I’m documentaries and You’ve Got Mail. We haven’t always watched American Idol, and we’ve never watched an entire season until this year. This year, as Steve has been stuck at home, we’ve looked for ways to spend time together and AI has become our regular date night. Even when it fell on the opening night of a conference I was very involved in, the decision wasn’t even a little bit hard – no way was I going to leave Steve on AI night.
Tonight was the finale. The last show. And it was surprisingly, weirdly painful for me. I have no particular attachment to these competitors; but this show has marked a specific stretch of road for me. It opened on January 7, exactly one month after Steve went on hospice. I remember wondering if he would be here for the end of it. Each Wednesday and Thursday, it marked an escape for us from our reality. I talked incessantly through it. “I don’t like her vibrato.” “Why is he wearing a hat again?” “Is that tattoo real, do you think, because I didn’t notice it last week.” That kind of riveting, never-ending commentary. Steve doesn’t have the energy to respond much but that doesn’t stop me from talking. We were together and that’s what mattered.
So, back to tonight. The show itself was a pretty epic disappointment. I didn’t enjoy the hours of filler and a lot of it seemed sort of…desperate and maybe a little bit tired and sad. But when it was time to announce the winner, I found myself overwhelmed with emotion. The decision hung in the balance between two young, handsome, talented men. They were both worthy competitors, but when Nick’s name was called, I was so happy for him. I mean, like unreasonably happy. Tears-streaming happy. I cried as he was pounced on by his competitors’ fierce hugs while he tried to sing his new song and then I really cried when he left the stage, mid-sentence, because he just needed to find his dad for a hug. Confetti fell thick all around him, all around everyone. And you could see it in his face: this was a moment beyond his craziest dreams – the kind of moment where you know everything is about to change.
And in that very same moment, in the magic of Nick’s victory, I suddenly knew what I hadn’t known before: the reason we’d been watching it all this time. Call me crazy, but I think I was seeing a picture of Steve’s future as he enters heaven…the winner. Microphone in hand, he’ll sing the song of the redeemed (and oh, sister mercy, my husband can sing!) as confetti falls and those who’ve gone before cheer, because they know what we cannot possibly know from our place in the cheap seats – they know that everything is about to change for Steve Stern. He’ll try to keep singing, but he’ll have to stop to find his dad in the crowd and go hug him, long and hard. And more than anything, he’ll understand what the long fight was for. What might seem like a disappointment of a finale will now be known as the doorway into life beyond his dreams. Beyond all our dreams. And from that vantage point, on that stage, he will finally and truly understand what it means to say death has no sting. None.
Nick finally pulled it together and returned to his spot on the stage in time to sing the very last line of his victory song, and the line was,
“Oh, what a beautiful life.”
Yes. Beautiful, indeed.
With hope,
Bo
Oh Bo. You have me in tears here, my friend. I watched the AI finale too and never saw all that you saw woven through the storyline. But now I do. It IS what Steve will encounter as he enters heaven soon. He will be given a crown and a title…and then he’ll give his crown to Jesus.
Now I will replay tonight’s ending in such a more poignant way because I will overlay Nick’s experience with Steve’s reality. Once again you have opened my eyes to things beyond the surface, deeper than meets the eye. I wish you didn’t have to go through so much pain to have such a gifted way of doing just that but I am beyond grateful to be one of the recipients of your insights. I love you so very much and continue to pray daily for you to have the Trinity’s supernatural anointing in these days. :o)
I love what God can weave into a story line- how he opens hearts, and doors, and speaks straight into us….I read your blog everyday, you write and your story of living through the brokenness and the hard spots has shaped and changed the way I think of the man God gave me. It has changed my marital perspective for the better and caused thankfulness to flow again. Thank you for writing, and this post especially, It makes me feel like I just can’t wait for Heaven and Jesus.
That was…glorious, Bo. Just the best. Love, Vangi
I have no words. Just beautiful.
Thank you, Bo, for your generosity in the midst of your vulnerable, live-redeeming suffering…
Oh my goodness…thank you once again Bo for making me cry:-) Really for sharing your heart! What a beautiful perspective!
Continuing to pray for strength when yours is spent and grace to keeping hearing God’s sweet gentle voice in the quiet moments of your difficult journey. Love and hugs to you. In the strong name of Jesus.
I get it. The words you use paint a picture. It’s not a dreamy, flowy watercolor or a pastel chalk sketch. It’s a picture, so clear, so vibrant it looks like a photograph…. but better. Steve’s day will be a glorious one in Heaven. Of that, there is no doubt. You are a blessed woman.
No, I just watched the DVR’d finale…and didn’t tear up til I came across and read your thoughts. I’ve been caregiving for a man in hospice, who just transitioned into heaven last night at 11:24pm. This week last year, I lost a dear friend at the hands of the same cancer, only just 38 yrs on this earth. He was also in hospice care. For both, God gave me an opportunity to read scripture and pray in their last days, over them. Yesterday I took his hand as he took sporadic breaths, unresponsive. I spoke softly in his ear, describing heaven to him. How the Father’s arms are wide open and welcoming. They are at the end of this river…just let the current gently float you downstream, right into His light. His love.
This week was hard. But there is a release now. A knowing.
They are with my Jesus. Today, I find myself both exhaling from the intensity of care this last week of his life on earth…and celebrating the continuation of it, completely whole. Completely free.
Bo, I love the fact that when our spirit is wrapped up in Christ’s view of life that we see Him in all of it.
I’m with Michelle–lots of tears here.
You are a gift; so is your hubby.
Bo. You’ve encapsulated it. The less than climatic rising action just before the climax because the dying part reeks with the smell of earth, but the cheers of those who’ve gone before greet the saved at the gate and the most amazing, beautiful life waits for those who have the one kind of entry ticket required, “Sins paid in full by Jesus!” And to that person, the aches, the unfulfilled longings, the out and out pain washes away forever like footprints in the sand. Yep, I could sense where you were going, and it makes me want to watch the AI finale’ to feel the anticipation of great rejoicing with you! I think death will always seem mid-sentence . . . until we get to the other side. I’m sharing your hope on Facebook.
Bo,
You’ve done it again. You have found the words to explain it all. Praise The Lord that He has given you that gift. I was in tears with you at the thought of Steve singing his way into heaven. Hallelujah.
My wonderful son lost his battle with ALS on May 7 but he is now with Our Lord, Jesus Christ, free to talk and move! I will miss him terribly and so will his wife and 14 yr old son and 12 yr old daughter, but we all know that he now has eternal life in heaven. Every time I start to cry, I envision his disease free body soaking up all that heaven has to offer and it brings comfort to me. Oh, what a beautiful life, indeed!
Bo …. you are such a brilliant beautiful soul. The Lord is so pleased with you and your gift in making a joyful noise! You spread the gospel in such an authentic, easy to follow way. You and your beloved Steve are my favorite love story. I pray that you both know and understand how much your lives have touched even strangers like myself. I met you at George Fox University at a conference…probably 8 or more years ago. God Bless you and your beautiful family.
Bo,
I am sorry for the pain and suffering Steve and your family are experiencing. But I can testify that God indeed has used Steve’s ALS and the insights and perspective from the Holy Spirit that you share is saving the lives of many as we hope in a Sovereign God and shift our focus from earth to things that matter in heaven.
Thank you for your openness and poignant examples that are relatable to us all. For applicable Scripture references to hide in our hearts. For glorifying God on this Beattlefield where He has gone before you and supplied a provision for every minute.
Thanking God and praying for you and your family,
Susan