Love, Hope, and Strength
This week, I have been reminded of a statement that I often make. It is a stamen that is 100% true, maybe a little dark, and one that gives perspective to some of the things we humans have to deal with. Sometimes I speak the words in jest, sometimes in an effort to give or to keep perspective. And while it is inarguably true and accurate, it can sting. The words? “Life is a 100% terminal disease.”
We will inevitably all die. One day, every last person reading this will breathe their last breath and their heart will whimper out one last beat. No one escapes it, death. Ironically, death is a fact of life. And yet, when someone we love or admire dies, we wish it wasn’t so.
There is inspiration we can find while facing the reality of death. Ideally reflecting on the death of another inspires living a full life while we have the chance. There are lives we see as “wasted,” others sadden us when they are “cut short.” Death creates an assessment of our own lives, when faced with bravery and introspection. Those two outcomes are easier when we reflect on “a life well lived.” Those lives are biographical examples of what our lives could be, maybe even should be, if and when we readjust our living in the face of another’s death.
Someone I admire died this week. We only met a couple of times, but Mike Peters spoke so many things to me for forty years. He did so through four-minute songs, poignant interviews, and an honest reflection of his failures and weaknesses. Mike fronted a Welsh band called The Alarm. While they sadly never broke the US top 40, they were all over college radio in the 80s and early 90s. That said, they were important enough to be the first life concert to be globally broadcast on MTV in 1986.
If you’ve not listened to The Alarm, do yourself a favor and at least spend an hour with their greatest hits. In their songs, you’ll find themes of love, hope and strength, as outlined in their song “Strength.” You’ll also find glimmers of faith, contagious kindness, and an unbeatable joy. It’s been said their songs declare that “nothing is unfixable or unreachable.” Mike Peters spent decades not only spreading these encouraging words, and many more, but he also lived out those words in the midst of so much pain and turmoil. He practices what he preached. You see, Mike Peters spent the last three decades recording, touring and performing while battling cancer. And not just battling his own cancer, but for others suffering as he did. His Love Hope Strength Foundation built awareness, finances, and participation in efforts to beat cancer through research, bone-marrow donorship, and treatment, especially for those less fortunate than himself.
There are hundreds of tributes online, in posts and tributes by his peers and articles by journalists who encountered him over the years. I am neither of those. But as a fan for over 70% of my life, I find Mike’s life inspiring. His LOVE – Mike loved life. He loved his family. He loved the talents he’d been given and loved sharing them. Mike was the consummate front-man, desiring to give all he had to the fans he loved. When my wife saw The Alarm with me a few years ago, she observed, “I’ve never seen a lead singer with so much genuine joy.” He wasn’t a pretentious rock-star, but a humble and grateful artist who loved life well. His HOPE – Mike saw the possibility of a better world. One where we encouraged and supported each other. One where differences were celebrated in a hopeful contribution to the common good. The poems he put to music celebrated and gave a framework for that world. His STRENGTH – The fortitude of this man to keep on keeping on… Mike’s strength is seen in the documentary The Man in the Camo Jacket. (You can, and should, watch it on Amazon Prime.) He really didn’t stop working! During the pandemic, he and his wife, Jules, gave us evenings of live music and motivation. And he was making new music; with his most recent single, “Outlier,” came out on March 17, just a handful of weeks before his death.
To be sure, I was saddened to hear of Mike’s passing. But I was also happy he was no longer suffering. While I hurt for the loss of his wife and their two boys, I couldn’t help but smile at a life well lived. A full life that was driven by the felt responsibility to contribute more. Not in pursuit of Top 40 hits, Mike’s drive was about the pursuit of sharing Truth. And he did so without being pandering, insincere, or preachy. A modern-day Woody Guthrie, Mike made music “by the people, for the people, and of the people,” giving a marching-order to all of us to make the world a little better collectively by being a little better on our own.
Yes, life is a 100% terminal disease. But living? That’s an option entirely up to the individual. Thank you, Mike Peters, for showing us how it’s done.
