High up above, or down below

In truth, I could hardly breathe... the two friendly French girls standing next to me made the tight quarters more bearable as we laughed and joked in both French and English, but the young man  in front of me who was smoking a bong and couldn't keep his shorts up wasn't exactly helping the general atmosphere. As I continued to dodge his second hand smoke, I attempted to sing along with the opening artists who flooded the stage one by one. I say "flooded," but in reality they were more like rain drops. Each voice, however marvelous; each band, no matter how perfectly tuned; and each beat, often perfectly dropped, were all just the raindrops. Precursors to the real flood. Forerunners to the experience of the perfect storm. A memory to compliment  a life change. The opening bands for Coldplay.
      
After all of the opening bands had finally cleared the stage, the crowds had only become more cramped; and after the laborious set-up process for the event of the evening had taken place, the lights fell. This was an outdoor concert and we all knew that the entire process had taken such a long time for only one reason: waiting for darkness. So, we waited as well. 50,000 French speakers, waiting for the English band to appear. Waiting for the first beat to drop. Waiting for Coldplay.  And then, it did ... 


I find myself in a whirl-wind of music, color, and heartbeats! I can't help but jump, spin, and yell along with the thousands around me as song after song floods out from the enormous speakers surrounding us. So many people! So much joy! So much unity! Here! Right HERE!!! I jump higher, I sing louder, "You use your heart as a weapon, and it hurts like heaven..." Again and again and again!! This is magnificent!  Look, world! THIS is magnificent!!!

Then I stop. I pull my right hand out of the sky. The flashing wrist band drops to my waist and I stare at it. Memories flash back to days in my church, with my youth group, worshiping. I start to feel almost unfaithful... The jumping, the joy, the unity, the singing at the top of my lungs... This was always worship for me. So what was I doing now? What was this now? What was I focusing on now? Was this okay? I lifted my eyes from my wrist band and began to look around, at the faces, at the sea of people. My eyes lock on one man -- to my left. Grey hair, old leathery skin, French. Yellow is playing. The man is crying. He's all alone in this audience. Alone and crying. I can only imagine the history behind his eyes, the content behind his thesis, and the reasons behind his tears. As Chris Martin repeats the lines, "You know I love you so..." his tears become more steady. My heart starts to break for him. Then God pops into my head, "Sacha.  I am healing the nations. This reminds you of worship because this is worship. I'm here... I am SO here. I'm in the yellow stars. I'm in the old man's tears. I love you ALL so..."


About a month ago, I had read my friend Becka Hanan's blog post about her Coldplay experience, and I couldn't help but let some of her words play through my head, along with Chris Martin's: "...each one of us became a light in a sea of 20,000 lights."  Maybe there was something bigger than a concert here...


And so, I take my right fist, blinking, glowing, shining, and I thrust it up into the sky. My wrist band is yellow, the stars are blue, and I'm going to be a part of something bigger than myself. I'm going to be a part of a concert. I'm going to be part of an experience. I'm going to be a part of 4 British guys, who are helping to heal the nations. 


The concert ends, and the encore comes. I knew the order ahead of time, so none of this is a surprise to me...  and I know that Fix You is about to start. I prepare myself, expecting to cry, expecting to be reminded of things long forgotten. And then it happens. The song begins and I cry, memories flood my head, and I stop singing. The old man next to me is singing and crying, the girls next to me are singing and crying. I become indignant. I refuse to sing... I want to hear Chris sing. But then I realize, that's what a CD is for. Right now it's about being a part of something bigger than myself. A being in an audience of 50,000 beings. A light among lights. A voice among voices. A healed soul among healed souls. This is about claiming my identity along with the French girls, the old man, and the short-less boy in front of me. It's about being fixed. Together. 


Fix You. He does... He fixes us. He fixes us in concerts, He fixes us in churches, He fixes us in distant lands, He fixes us in every language we can speak, He fixes us in every song we can sing. He fixes us. He fixes you. 


The climax of the song arrives, the guitar chords crash into my ears, fireworks and lasers rip the sky to shreds, and the confetti is creating a ceiling above us all. "Tears streaming down your face, I promise you will learn from my mistakes.... and I will try to fix you." By the light of the fireworks, I look and see tears streaming down the faces around me. I pull both hands down from the sky and I touch my cheeks. Wet. I let my hands drop to my sides and I stare up at the clouds above me... Healed.  So healed...


As I stand and feel the tears trickling down my cheeks, Chris begins to sing again... "Every teardrop is a waterfall..." Yes. It is. And I'm okay with that. I'm a waterfall, I'm a light in a sea of 50,000 lights, I'm healed, and I'm HERE. I'm here and I've learned a few things... I've lived a few things.  I raise my hand and look at my light. It's all yellow. I believe that lights will guide me home... ignite my bones... heal you...


and I'd rather be a comma than a full stop.