Class Act

“Be humble in whatever you do, never let selfishness or pride be your guide." ~ Philippians 2:3

Death wasn't kind.  He knew that.  It took people who were far too young, far too good.  It didn't pretend to care, it didn't pretend to distinguish.

After a five-year fight with cervical cancer, Johntel watched helplessly as his mother took her last breaths.  She was just 39.

As his teammates gathered at the hospital in show of support for their senior captain, there was talk of cancelling the basketball game.  Johntel wouldn’t have it.  He insisted they play.  And play they did, even though the game started late and absent their captain and MVP.

Early in the second quarter, Johntel emerged from the locker, fully dressed in his team’s crimson and gold uniform.  The Coach called a time out and players from both benches hugged the grieving athlete.  Fans came out of the stands to do the same.

He’d intended just to watch and support his team from the bench.  He soon realized, however, that despite his grief, he wanted to play.  But since he wasn’t on the pre-game roster, his team received a technical foul when he entered the game.

Two free throws awarded on a technical foul would usually come as a welcome opportunity in a tight game.  Under the circumstances, the opposing Coach (Rodman) and his team didn't feel right about taking them.  They pleaded with the referees, but the rulebook left no room for exceptions.

It didn't matter that Rodman’s basketball team had ridden a bus two and a half hours to get to a game that started an hour late.  Didn't matter that the game was close, or that this was a chance to beat a big city team.

Something else was on Rodman’s mind when he asked for a volunteer to shoot the two free throws.  “Let’s do the right thing,” he suggested before carefully selecting his shooter.

Darius went alone to the free throw line, dribbled the ball a couple of times, and stared at the rim.  His first attempt went about two feet, bouncing several times as it rolled out of bounds.  The second barely left his hand.

It didn't take long for Johntel and his teammates to figure out what had just happened.  They stood and turned toward their opponents and started applauding the classy gesture of sportsmanship.  Soon, so did everybody in the stands.

Johntel went on to score 10 points and his team won easily.  Later, both teams went out for pizza, two players from each team sharing each pie.

Rodman’s team went home with a loss.  But their display of character would be something no one in that gym would ever forget.  Sometimes you win . . . sometimes you learn.  Amen?

Lord God, there's so much more than the score at the end of the game.  Help us keep competition in perspective.  Help them play fair, safe from injury and thankful for the chance to demonstrate their faith to others by their actions.  Amen.

Older Than His Age

“Earn the respect of others by not mistreating someone who has injured you." ~ Romans 12:17

The school bus door swung open and 11 year old Colin stumbled off, his book bag swinging wildly across his back.  He ran home faster than he ever had before, not daring to look back at the other kids swarming out of the school bus in every direction.

He heard them talking about him, snickering behind his back.  He put his head down and sprinted the quarter mile to his house.  His legs grew heavy, but he didn’t dare stop.

When he reached home Colin stood outside the door for a long while, gasping for breath.  He pulled up his sweatshirt, examining the bruises that stained his ribs.  Then he checked his eyes hoping to remove any trace of the tears he’d been shedding.  He couldn’t let his parents know he’d been bullied and beaten today for fear of the endless questions it would raise.

Tomorrow would be bad enough he thought; and on his birthday no less.  The physical pain he felt was nothing compared to the humiliation he’d surely endure.

After learning of Colin’s attack, the Principal called a meeting of the school’s Disciplinary Board.  The Board, comprised of upper class ninth-graders, would hear from all the students involved before recommending a suitable punishment.

He said a silent prayer before his testimony.  Then, stripped to its essentials, Colin told his story absent any expression of his true suffering.  His 3 attackers offered a pretty lame “sorry-we’re-just-dumb-kids” defense.

Before deliberating, the Board’s Chairman 13 year old Lance asked Colin if he’d like to say anything else.  Colin nodded and pleaded with surprising courage.

“Please don’t punish them!  Everyone deserves forgiveness.”

The room got deathly quiet.  “How old did you say you were Colin?” Lance asked, amazed at the maturity of his kindhearted peer.

 “I’ll be twelve tomorrow,” Colin announced proudly.

“Are you having a party?” Lance probed.

“There’s no point,” he replied matter-of-factly.  “I have no friends to invite to a birthday party.”

“I’d be honored to be invited,” replied Lance, followed quickly by the other eight Board members.  The Principal, who’d been silently admiring the compassion of his young students, added, “Count me in too!”  And after word spread about Colin’s actions at the Board meeting, the Principal offered the school’s gymnasium to handle to crowd of students who wanted to attend as a show of support against bullying.  Even the attackers showed up and offered a public apology to Colin.

If bullying, or avoiding people who are different, is somehow instinctive to people, so are these kind, unpredictable bursts of caring - even for a little boy few knew, whose list of friends grew instantaneously by the grace of God.

Dear God, please help me to forgive those who persecute me.  Help me see the good in them that You do.  Free me from the anger that I’m feeling so that I can walk in the fruit of love, joy, and patience.  Help me God to do Your will.   Amen

Being There

“Be quiet and know that I am God." ~ Psalm 46:10

It’d be an overstatement to say that I played on the middle school baseball team.  I was on the team.  I practiced with the team.  I wore the same uniform.

I took batting practice and chased fly balls in the outfield before every game.  Then I sat on the bench and cheered for the guys who actually made a difference in the game’s score.

It was a decent arrangement.  I enjoyed the camaraderie, the workouts kept me in shape, and I had a front-row seat for the games.  But I didn't feel any of the pressure that comes with knowing that the outcome of the game may rest on my bony shoulders.

‘Riding the pine’ must’ve been hard for my Dad.  He’d been a gifted athlete, lettering in both baseball and track in college.  He was fast and could hit like ‘the Babe.’

Still he never missed a game.  After the final out, he’d smile, shake my hand and tell me, "Good game!" even though I never actually did anything to make the game good.

Until the last game of the season.

We jumped off to a 14-3 lead against our arch-rivals.  Heading into the 7^th inning, Coach finally felt comfortable enough to look toward my end of the bench.  "Walker!" he barked. "You're in!"

I grabbed my bat and rosined its handle.  As I stepped into the batter’s box with two outs and runners on second and third, the guys on bench screamed "Grip it and Rip it!"

I was late on the first pitch, hitting a line drive into right field.  Both teammates scored.  As I stood proudly on first base, the crowd roared as if I’d just won the game (even though it just meant that we won by 13 not 11).

I spotted Dad in the stands.  His smile, his presence, being there meant the world to me.  For the next 35 years, through good times and bad, Dad was always there to smile, to encourage, and to love me.

I think about Dad whenever I'm tempted to NOT be there for my own children.  I'm not as good at it as Dad was.  But I keep trying because I know how much it can mean for a Dad to be there when you get that big hit.

Truly ‘being there’ entails far more than physical presence.  It requires a focused engagement of every aspect of our being – physical, mental, and emotional.  It means hitting the pause button and neglecting other distractions that demand our attention.

We deceive ourselves into thinking that our e-communications allow us to be omnipresent because we can multitask.  But no one can multitask and be fully present at the same time!   It’s conceited to think otherwise and borders on idolatry.

Thank you Jesus, for Dads who love us, for grandfathers who care, and for God, my eternal father, who made me and is always there for me.  How Blessed am I.  Amen

A Servant's Heart

"Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening." ~ 1 Samuel 3:9

A new day’s come, new possibilities, a fresh page yet to be written.  Bill waited eagerly outside Sweetwater’s for his usual donuts.  Since he retired from the police force 21 years ago, he’s been collecting day-old pastries from local businesses and delivering them to the local homeless shelter.

Breads, muffins, bagels, and doughnuts might not be the most nutritious meal.  But efforts to recover outdated food from places like hotel and restaurant buffets have failed due to health, liability and manpower issues.

It wasn’t the solution to the problem, but the residents were grateful for any sustenance in the wake of ever-decreasing program funding.  So Bill does what he can, knowing that reaching out to others, being the hands and feet of Jesus, is one of the greatest callings we have in our faith.

The baker greeted Bill and helped him lift several dozen boxes of day-old donuts into his van.  As an unexpected wave of nostalgia washed over him, he recalled these same tasty treats as a child.

Life seemed simpler then – healthier diets, friendlier neighborhoods, safer streets.  We had less technology, fewer regulations, less lawsuits.  We could run faster and work harder.

The morning sun streamed through the windshield as Bill headed for the shelter.  Yet his mind remained clouded with distant memories.

In the good old days he was one only a handful of police officers in Battle Creek.  Citizens valued them.  Even most of the criminals did.  Those who didn't - feared the police.  Cops were the heartbeat of the community.

Today that trust and respect has vanished.  People tend to have such unrealistic expectations of what law enforcement officials can do.  They tend to underestimate criminal threats and why the use of deadly force is sometimes necessary.  This city seems so foreign now.

He wondered what had prompted this retrospection.

Like He sometimes does, God interrupted and put another thought in Bill’s brain.  He made a quick U-turn and headed straight for the Police Department.

The approached the Police Chief offering a hearty handshake.  “Chief, could you spare an officer to make my delivery today instead?”

The Chief smiled.  “I believe we can make that happen.”

Can you imagine what it must have been like when one of BC’s finest rolled up with boxes of donuts for these sometimes forgotten people?

Accessing God’s grace and voice may include slowing down and giving Him our full attention without distractions.  When the next opportunity to serve comes along, shoot up the prayer, "Lord, is this something you want me to do?"

As Saint Teresa once said, “Love has no meaning by itself - it has to be put into action.”  Never be too afraid busy to lend a hand or share encouragement so that others can see Jesus through you.

“Lord God Almighty, thank You for once again taking this limited brain of mine and using it to perhaps lesson the burden of others, if only for a moment, amen.  ~ Bill C