Gospel Insights from an Orange Hat

I am a little bit reluctant to write this post. I am going to share a secret that I’m not sure I want to divulge. The Man in Black perceived that if word got out it would be “nothing but work, work, work.”

A phenomenon manifests itself every day in youth concerts, dance recitals, sporting events, and even graduation ceremonies – wherever there are some members of families (or close friends) are participating in an event, and other family members are observing.  Even though the family members were likely together 10 minutes before, once a family member is on a stage or field or wherever, usually separated by only a short distance, there is a desire to connect with the observing family. The family in the stands is equally zealous to wave and acknowledge the family member participating. 

“Hi mom!” the participant waves. “Can you see me?” 

“Yes!” the mom shouts and waves back. “We’re right here watching you! You can do this!”

Once acknowledgement between parties is achieved, all becomes right with the world.

My daughter was in marching band last year.  Marching band is no different – participants and observers want to connect with each other. Marching band, however, requires a little more decorum. Participants typically cannot move out of place, or wave. Football stadiums are large places and even if the band members could move, they would still have a hard time locating their family and friends scanning row by row, section by section. Many families shout cheers for their participants as the band enters the field. The cheers sound like encouragement, but mostly they are meant to connect with the participants. The cheers convey the meaning, “We are here in the cold to cheer you on. We are connected.”

I love my daughter. When she performed, I wanted her to know where I was – that I could see her and was cheering for her, and that she is not alone.  I wanted a more sure method of her finding me than a cheer. So during every performance, just before her band was about to perform, I would put on an orange hunting cap. I told my daughter that we would try to sit near the 45-yard line (her starting position) and to look for the orange cap. She was always able to find us – even at a competition that was particularly cold and 8 other people were wearing orange caps. (This is my reluctance on sharing my secret.)

I have reflected on this situation from both my point of view, and from my daughters.  I wanted my daughter to know where we were. Similarly, in this big world, I want to make it as easy as possible for God to find me. So I am going to be where he expects me to be, and do what he expects me to do. As his great and marvelous work unfolds, I want him to know that I am present. As a participant in this mortal play, I find comfort knowing that I have a heavenly parents and family cheering me on, that I’m not alone, and I feel connected.

We aren’t adrift in the universe after some cosmic accident, entertaining ourselves until entropy’s final victory. We have a loving parents who brought us here. We have family members that have already played their part and are now observers. We are separated briefly for this mortal event. Participants and observers are still anxious to connect with one another until they are together again at the end of the event. How joyous that will be. 

63 Draw near unto me and I will draw near unto you; seek me diligently and ye shall find me; ask, and ye shall receive; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. (D&C 88:63)

“Hi dad!” the participant waves. “Can you see me?”