Have you ever tanked with good intentions? (If you just raised your hand, I can relate to you. I have very physical and visceral reactions to things I read. You are not alone.) Well, to be really frank with you, it happened to me, again.
This last week I was really pumped to teach on something I had learned fairly recently- lamenting. ‘How to lament well.’ I have no idea why I thought this was a good idea to teach on to a group of high schoolers that I had only just met. But, in my redheaded joy and enthusiasm I jumped after it. And it fell flat. I mean f-l-a-t FLAT. Flatter than pop left out and open for three days in the summer. Flatter than a piano dropped from the 8th story, and the bug under it (poor bug).
I knew by what I had studied in the Bible, in my heart, and by running it by people whom I trust, that this was accurate teaching.
Then, something marvelous happened. Something, that if I had instant replay like ESPN I would draw little arrows and slow-motion the goodness-gracious out of it.
Like the guy who’s running the football down the field and knows that he’s about to get tackled, I handed off the ball.
I looked to Kristen.
Kristen, my co-leader for the summer, who loathes public speaking, thrives in one-on-one conversation. Kristen, who goes deep early and then proceeds to greater depths in conversation. Kristen, who has had to put up with my redheaded ADD insanity all summer, bless her.
She caught the ball and she ran with it, dodging and stiff-arming her way to the end zone where she took a knee and gave all the glory to God.
Can I get an amen?!
The word she gave that night wasn’t just received, but it unlocked hearts, hurts, and released hope and healing, changing the whole atmosphere of the room. Participants were sharing experiences, fears, and we had only met them a few hours before.
It took a lot of self-restraint not to get up and cheer right then and there. I’m not going to lie folks, I wanted to. I wanted to so badly.
Don’t you worry, I jumped up and down, hollered my redhead off and cheered later. But I knew that doing it in that moment would distract from the glory of what God was doing. It was like when I was little and my mom told me to stop laughing, oh man, I thought I would explode.
The thing is, the truth is: It’s not about us. The game isn’t about the players, we’re never focused on the players. The players change, retire, get traded, become commentators or spokes people. But, there is one thing that always remains consistent, the ball. The number one rule of all sports: Keep your eye on the ball. It’s about the ball. The players are simply a means, a conduit, a means of movement and transportation.
That night, she took her eyes off of her fear, and planted them firmly on the ball, the purpose of the game. She stiff-armed fear, faked out doubt and straight-up out ran rejection. Her eyes were on the prize and she wasn’t quitting and would not be deterred by any such nonsense.
All summer I have heard her wisdom, guidance, and passion about having an intimate relationship with God. Ever since I met her I have noticed the relationship she has with God, hearing from Him about people, what to say to them and how. But she knew how she functioned best, in one-on-one conversations.
Perhaps, that was what brought me the most joy that night. No, it was. She stood up to adversity and charged at it, in her own way. Her fear of rejection and of speaking in front of people broke that night. When that happens, when we trust in the power and strength of God to see us through our deepest fears, he shows off. Our trust in him grows stronger.
I got tackled, and I’m okay with it. Someone’s got to start the play, and sometimes the one who starts the play doesn’t get to finish it. What’s important is to be willing to play the roll asked of you, even if you don’t get to see it all the way through to the end.
Man alive, what a finish. I wish I had a play back reel to show you. It was all but over, and then the remarkable happened. When the tide shifts, you feel it so deeply even your marrow hums.
The only thing I can equate it to is that moment in a sporting event when the crowd rises to their feet because they are so filled with hope and awe that they might get to see something beyond their expectations and hopes. And the roar of joy that fills the stadium when it is accomplished. “Can you believe it?!” “Holy cow!” “What a play!” “Cubs win! Cubs win! Cubs win!” And I had to hold it in.
I wish you could have been there.
So, these are my parting thoughts: 1. What is something that you may have started that God is asking you to give up and/or turn over to someone else? 2. Are you focusing on Jesus or on something else? 3. Are you willing to do what God asks you to do? Do you trust God to show up?
Just for the record, I wish I could give the perfect Christian answer to all of these, but since we’re being honest, I struggle with all of them at some point through the day, at least twice.
