Kiss 106.1 does a radio-thon once a year to support the Seattle Children's Hospital. It is a worthy cause and definitely a fantastic use of the station's popularity. Patients and parents of patients tell their stories and talk about the amazing impact the SCH can have on a child fighting an illness. It's an extremely productive way of collecting resources for the hospital.
If we are being honest, I usually avoid that radio station like the plague that day. It's not because I don't care about the cause, or connect with the stories; it's because I do. I learned long ago that at the first notes of the Sarah McLachlan song that invariably accompanies the story, fat, slow tears start to roll. Driving with a cell phone should be the least of our worries - try driving while crying - impossible.
I was caught off guard yesterday though. I unsuspectingly turned on the radio and was immediately, violently, thrust back to my high school years. Isn't it funny how sounds can do that? This particular sound, or voice, had been a major cornerstone in my teenage development. I had listened to hours of this voice; hated it in one moment and loved it the next. I had been challenged by it, called out, encouraged, broken down and built back up by it. This voice had seen me through the most excruciating moments of my adolescence, and the most enlightening moments.
The voice belonged to my youth pastor, Jeff, who was on the show to talk about his son who was a patient at SCH. In high school, I was fairly involved with a church in the Seattle area. I went on several mission trips, attended a weekly youth group, and made some lifelong friends there. Forcing me to get involved was one of the greatest things my parents could have done for me; not from a religious standpoint, but from a character building side. I was pushed outside of my comfort zone, experienced traveling without my parents, and had a place to go that was completely away from the drama that accompanies high school.
I must have listened to Jeff give hundreds of sermons; tell a myriad of stories. He just has one of those voices that doesn't need to be loud to demand attention. He talks, you listen - knowing the words are well chosen and thought through; full of worth and meaning. Years after leaving the youth group, I still haven't found a pastor who can affect me like Jeff could. I've been to a few churches here and there and never settled on one. I think it's because I'm just not at a place in my faith where I want to be settled, but maybe it's a subconscious fear that I'll never find another Jeff.
Maybe his impact was just because of the timing; high school is such a unique couple of years in terms of growth and internal dialogue. I can't put my finger on a particular message or even one sermon that stands out. I think it was just the feeling I got when I listened to Jeff. So much of high school is spent feeling like people are talking at you, about you, and to you. When Jeff spoke you felt like he was speaking with you, for you, and he didn’t demand anything in return, but you never wanted to disappoint him.
A few years ago, I heard that Jeff's very young son passed away due to cancer. He left the church after that for his own reasons and I remember thinking what a loss it was for future generations. How unfortunate that their lives would not be in part, molded by this man's ability to speak to the heart. It is a testament to his power of spoken word that without seeing him, with just one sentence overheard on the radio, I was taken back to youth group, sitting cross legged on the floor, listening to him speak.
Hearing his voice made my heart ache a bit for those years. You couldn't pay me to go back in time and relive high school, but it is so rare that you find a person like that. Someone who doesn't demand anything of you, but in return for nothing gives so much of themselves. Listening to just 5 minutes of him speak made me desperately want to see him again, to ask him if I was doing okay - making the right choices, living up to his expectations.
Perhaps that is the legacy he leaves with me; the knowledge that I must from time to time call into question my actions and to really think about the direction I am taking, to remember that my choices matter. More importantly, I think about the legacy and impact I’d like to have on the world. Will it be anything compared to Jeff’s? Will my words one day cause someone else to come to a complete stop and just listen? Will my voice have the power to invoke a day of self-reflection in someone? I certainly hope so.
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