Playdates with God: The Lot Show

There has been so much beauty in the days this past week as we learn to navigate this almost-empty nest. There have been alone moments and love moments and moments of quiet worship. There have been hard-work moments, celebration moments, and that one moment the boy called home. There have been the moments of tears of the bittersweet, of feeling named by another’s words, pride for a good friend. But one of my sweetest joy-moments this week came in the back parking lot at the high school.

I have never been an insider, am still coming to terms with that, but whether it’s in the world of writing books or the world of high school band boosters, there is something about the way I am that keeps me on the edge of being in “the know.” That’s why, when one of the other percussion moms said to me after the Friday night football game, “They’re doing a lot show after the game. Come on, let’s go watch!” –well, when she said that, my first response was, “Me? Am I allowed to go?” We had been working the band booster concession all night; it was so hot our hands had turned to liquid inside our plastic gloves. I had this cold and was all fuzzy from the cold medicine. My back hurt, my feet hurt, and I still needed to clean up the pretzel station. But when she said, “Let’s go!” I knew I wanted to. I left the salt scattered on the counter and that one pretzel rotating slowly in the warmer.

There is no way to explain the rush of pride and joy and love I feel when I watch my son make music. So I won’t even try. It’s the same every Sunday morning when I see him behind the drum set, playing with the praise band in church. It makes me so happy. I stood in the high school lot, soaked in the heat of a long night, bone-tired and congested, grinning from ear-to-ear. St. Irenaeus said, “The glory of God is man fully alive.” That’s what I see when I watch my boy use his gifts. And it’s a beautiful thing. (Can you tell which one is him?)

Every Monday I share one of my Playdates with God. I would love to hear about yours. It can be anything: outside, quiet time. Maybe it’s solitary. Maybe it’s loud and crowded. Just find God and know joy. Click on the button below to add your link. I try to visit a few of your stories every week, so if you are a new visitor, be sure to let me know in the comments so I can welcome you. Grab my button at the bottom of the page and join us.

Laura Boggess


  1. says

    oh, man! You made me cry.
    My son will be 39 in a few weeks, but I remember the many joys over the junior high, high school and college years of seeing him perform (acting/musicals/singing) that made me burst. “Is that my son? How can that be? Who knew these kids were so talented.”

    No greater joy, indeed.

  2. says

    That’s so awesome! I find myself out of the loop as well so I can totally relate to that part of the story. Your boy makes great music by the way!

  3. says

    Oh, this made me cry!!! All of it. I, too, am usually on the outside, just a little bit. Most of the time, it doesn’t bother me much. Then, there are those other days . . . And that beautiful drummer boy of yours?? Holey moley, YES. That is Irenaeus to a tee. Thanks so much.


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