A Walk In The Park

I am writing this after many months of silence. Frankly, I haven’t felt like I had much to say. To be honest on a gut level, this social distancing has taken its toll, on both me and society as a whole. I am tired.

A few evenings ago, I was at the World’s Fair Park with a friend. The picture below reflects what we saw. At first glance, the picture appears quite normal, lovely…tranquil even. But in summers past, this was a fountain filled with children splashing about in the early heat of the evening. Their laughter would pierce the muggy evening, bright and startling, sharply echoing off the foothills of the Smokies. Families picnicked on the lawn, college students played Frisbee, couples walked hand-in-hand. Fortunes were won and lost on this site. Children danced. Concerts played. Secrets shared. Soccer practiced. People lived.

Now, in the relative silence, the once thriving park is mostly still. I have visited there almost weekly throughout the summer and it’s been the same every time. No fountain, no playground, and no picnicking. “Keep off the lawn” signs are prominent. And although silent (except for my flip flops beating a tattoo as I walk along), the park may be fighting back, struggling to be a vestige of it’s former self. Don’t get me wrong…it’s still well maintained. The lawn is perfectly manicured and it’s meticulously clean. No one could fault the city there. The fault lies with fear—fear of the unknown and fear of one another. We are scared, and fear has made us wary and antisocial.

Yet, there is hope. A group of young folks had gathered at the Amphitheater for an evening of praise and worship. Yes, they were sanitized. And yes, they were masked. And yes they were social distancing. But small clusters of them gathered here and there, interacting, talking and laughing. And when the music started, Jesus was praised. The music wasn’t spectacular. In fact, it was rather rudimentary. But it seemed God didn’t care. These fresh faced students were singing, lifting their hands in worship, and for a few breathless moments, there was nothing in the world that could hinder them from singing out to the One True God. It was enthralling, invigorating and humbling. Heaven touched earth. Fear fled in the face of faith. And the park was once more ignited, if only briefly.

It gave me hope—hope in the young adults that will some day lead this country. Hope for the millions of places that are sitting in desolation. Hope for new songs and new singing. But most of all, it renewed my hope in Jesus.

Dark days may be ahead. In fact, I’m quite certain there will be many of them. But hope deferred makes the heart sick. So that hope must be kept alive, lest our hearts fall ill and fade.

Worlds fair park 2020