Frequently we hear complaints that the media focuses on stories with celebrities imploding in spectacularly public ways while ignoring the feel good stories of regular everyday people. This isn't one of those complaints. That's just the way it is. In God's world though, stories abound.
The truth is, everyone has a story. Sitting on the patio at my local Starbucks, sipping coffee and watching folks at other tables talking, reading, or just sitting, it's comforting to know that each chair is occupied not just by a person, but a story. That woman rocking a baby in her arms is a story about triumph over the scars of childhood molestation. Those two guys at the table next to her, arguing about who's the best quarterback, just came from an AA meeting, sober now and loving their newfound life. Next to them, a table full of teenagers planning a missions trip to South America.
Take my friends Lyn and Judy. Standing in line behind them at the grocery store you'd never suspect that two years ago Judy was given no chance to ever walk again, and that Lyn devoted himself to her rehabilitation, never giving up hope. Is their story less uplifting because it's not on TV?
Which brings me to JR. JR passed away Friday, an event not likely to make the evening news. JR simply lived his final days in dignity, and died with a grace that I'm not sure I'll emulate when my time inevitably comes. His life story, complete with horrifying failure and stunning rehabilitation is known to those who loved him and that's just fine with me.
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