Sounds kind of goofy now, but I was really worried in the winter of 1974 about the music industry, of all things. Al Wilson had a song on the radio called "Show And Tell," and I swear the stations played it about every eight minutes. It was everywhere. For that reason, I came to despise an otherwise decent song.
I was worried because I began to wonder if anyone would ever write a new song again. Was I destined to hear Al Wilson every eight minutes for the rest of my entire life? Would "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown," which had been my favorite song up until then, be my favorite song forever?
This shows the stuff a 13-year-old has to worry about.
Thankfully, time showed me that songwriters were indeed hard at work. Before long "Sweet Home Alabama" came along, a song that remains one of my top 10 of all time. A decade later, John Mellencamp gave us "Small Town," which is in that category. Today, Kenny Chesney gives me a new favorite song just about every year.
As it turned out, my best-ever songs had het to be recorded, despite what I feared in the winter of '74. Through the years, great songs have come by the hundreds, to the point where Ol' Leroy and his junkyard dog probably won't crack the top 100 nowadays.
I think the same is true with the days of our lives.
We can often find ourselves in a stretch of time that feels like a rut. Thursdays looks the same as Wednesday, and this month looks a lot like the one from a year-and-a-half ago? Is it possible that the rest of our lives will be just like today?
We think that's true when life becomes a challenge.
Our problems become pervasive, to the point they consume every single aspect of our lives. Whether it's death, disease, discord or disenchantment, it's hard to enjoy the good company of a loved one, or appreciate the beauty of a sunset, or anything good, all because of the problems we're experiencing.
Our problems also feel permanent, to the degree it seems there can never be a better day ahead. The hurt is so deep and painful that it's hard to imagine ever getting over it.
But what happens, if we keep a proper perspective? A better day comes. Very often, our best day is around the corner.
High school is filled with ball games and running around all the time with good friends, and they seem so wonderful? But does anyone really want to go back to those days of drama and insecurity? In the words of Brad Paisley in a song about being 17, "Have no fear, these are nowhere near the best years of your life."
College is a time of independence and running around with good friends (see a theme here?), and they seem like they can go on forever. But college life also carries the worry of what lies ahead, of wondering whether all the hard work will pay off. It's a better day one day to see that it does.
There's a wedding day and the birth day of your children, but then later there's the joy of seeing them leave home and owning your house again.
And if there's a wonder how good the senior years can be, consider this: Have you ever spent time around a grandparent? Do they talk about anything but their grandchildren? Does it seem like they don't have any kind of life outside of spoiling the little ones rotten?
The working years can be better than the college years. And the senior years can be better than the working ones.
And then...
And then can come the best years even still. Someday I'm going to write a book about heaven, because I believe if we spent only 10 minutes talking to someone who's passed from this life to the next, we wouldn't just look forward to our time in the hereafter, we'd long for it. We would worry so much less. And we would enjoy our journey here so much more.
As I sat in my bedroom in 1974 listening to WSAI and Al Wilson, I would never have dreamed that such great music was on the horizon. In the same way, we can't believe our best days are yet to come.
But it's true. One day you'll "Show And Tell" me that that's true.
Oh man, there's that song again.