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We were deep within the wild, winding around the sides of a mountain with tall trees above, boulders alongside the path and enclaves and drop offs at every turn. My hiking partner claimed to know his way around this particular spot, pointing at the blazes which clearly marked the various trails. He was supremely confident that he could walk us in and back out of the seemingly endless supply of nature.
It wasn’t long before we were lost. My fearless guide was momentarily confused when he discovered we were not headed the right direction, which didn’t make me feel all that great. After turning in circles and a few false starts, he let out a slight sigh of relief and pointed again at a blaze on a tree just ahead of us. Somehow, we’d missed one of the markers and accidentally began trekking down a different trail. We were halfway down by the time we realized it. The only way to get back to where we wanted to go was to backtrack until we were back to the point where the trails split. The bad news is that we had to retrace our steps, and we lost some time. The good news is that there were clear markers to follow, and we had little trouble course correcting safely.
What a powerful analogy for dealing with a painful past, a problematic present and an uncertain future.
In Jeremiah 31:21 it says “Set up signposts, make landmarks, set your heart toward the highway, the way in which you went.” God was telling his people to clearly mark the path they took as they were led into captivity, because the way to freedom would require them to return the very way they came. Breadcrumbs, like Hansel and Gretel. Blazes, like the ones marking trees on wooded mountain trails.
Our past can be littered with regrets, failures, mistakes, transgressions, betrayals. At some point, we stepped off the path, or wandered onto a completely separate path that leads far away from what God had for us. We wake up one day, open our eyes and we realize we’ve lost our way. And we wonder how in the world we will find our way back. It’s one step at a time. And it requires us to retrace our steps. And unfortunately, it requires us to use the things that create the most pain, shame and embarrassment as landmarks and guideposts. The only way out is through. To recover from a past we’d rather forget, we must first backtrack, passing by each major misstep to gain understanding, find closure and connect more dots to our story. Our freedom requires us to rediscover the journey that led us to captivity in the first place.
With every step, we move closer to the path we were supposed to take, the path that leads forward. It can feel like we’ve been condemned to wander this regretful road for the remainder of our existence, but it’s a temporary setback in the end. If we engage it, one day we will take the next step and feel a change in the ground beneath our feet. There will be a new blaze on the tree in front of us. A different color that signifies we are no longer retracing. A signal that we are stepping out of the past and into the future that God has waiting for us. And with the understanding of where we came from, we will be better equipped to stay on this path, appreciate it and make the absolute most out of it.
Wherever you are will absolutely lead to where you want to be. Just turn around, start backtracking and let God handle the rest.
I recently watched a television special on ESPN featuring the story of Southern Methodist University and its football team’s infamous journey from rising national powerhouse to being wiped off the map by the NCAA’s death penalty in 1985. For all the non-sports fans out there, SMU cheated in 100 different ways to build a winning football team, and after several rebukes by the NCAA, its program was effectively destroyed by the harshest punishment in NCAA history. The program is only now showing signs of life, more than 30 years later.
Many of the people who created the cheating culture and conducted the majority of illegal and unethical behavior were long gone by the time the NCAA brought down the hammer. The head coach who was there when the ship finally sank wasn’t the one who set course for the iceberg. He just couldn’t steer the ship clear in time. That fate had been set in motion and could not be avoided.
This is a great example of the long tail of sin. The echoes that mistakes can make in times to come. The consequence, sometimes delayed, of regrets, wounds and weakness.
It can seem unfair, when the echoes come. When you think you’ve seen the worst of it. So relieved to have it behind you, whatever “it” is, and to be starting over. But the consequences aren’t always immediate. Sometimes, your mistakes set into motion a series of other painful events that are yet to unfold in your life. The tendency, at least for me, is to then ask God what in the world He thinks He’s doing. Why is He continuing to punish you for the mistakes you made? Why is some of that punishment delayed? Why now? Why isn’t He restoring instead of destroying? Why is He hurting (you and others) instead of healing? Why is He not choosing to create a happy ending here? We expect that once we’ve repented, once we’ve made amends, once we’ve given it all up to God, it’s time for the miracle, the redemption. That is all true. But if the ship has been directed at an iceberg, God makes no promises that you won’t still hit it.
“Your affliction is incurable. Your wound is severe.”
That’s a quote from Jeremiah 30:12-18. This passage says that you’ll be bound up, have nothing to heal you, be forgotten by your lover, all because of the multitude of your iniquities and the increase of your sin. And then, it asks a hurtful question.
“Why do you cry about your affliction?” As if it should be assumed that this is happening.
At the end of the passage, after explaining that you are receiving grave consequences because of your sin, it says God will “restore health to you and heal you of your wounds.” Those incurable, self-inflicted, devastating wounds. God’s plan is perfect, even though it can be painful.
Another passage, Malachi 2:13-15, says, “You cover the alter of the Lord with tears, with weeping and crying; so He does not regard the offering anymore, nor receive it with goodwill from your hands.” As you read along, it continues, “Yet you say ‘For what reason?'” The passage answers the question, stating that the Lord has been witness to your transgression.
Alexander MacLaren is one of my favorite commentators on scripture. In his examination of these verses, he says:
“Every sin draws after it evil consequences which work themselves out” in your life. “The miseries which follow our sins are self-inflicted, and for the most part automatic.”
In other words, you will reap what you sow. I guess that cliché is true after all. He continues, “If we understand the connection between sin and suffering, and the fact that the sorrows which are but the echoes of preceding sins have all a distinctively moral and restorative purpose, we are prepared rightly to estimate how tenderly the God who warns us against our sins by what men call threatenings, loves us while He speaks.”
And just like the previous scripture in Jeremiah, there remains a promise for redemption.
“No sin can stay our reception of a multitude of good gifts,” said MacLaren.
Sorrows as echoes of preceding sins. That’s really hard to accept. Especially when you feel like you are no longer the person who set the ship on a collision course with the iceberg in the first place. When a changed heart, and a revived spirit is within you. When you’ve begun to transform your life. When you do the work. You likely expect it’s now time for restoration, hope, reward, joy. Not the beginning of an even more difficult journey.
Sometimes, that is true. And sometimes, the long tail of sin still has to work its way out of the picture. And the tip of that tail is most likely the most painful part of it.
I encourage anyone out there who is trying to change, to rebuild, to make things better, to understand that the echoes won’t last forever. At some point, you’ve hit the iceberg, put the pieces back together, and you start winning again. It may feel like forever. But the consequences will work themselves out in your life. In the midst of the echoes is not the time to give up on your God. Even if you are losing what you dearly love. It’s exactly the time when He’s getting ready to do His most miraculous work. It’s not a convenient process. But you can’t argue with the conclusion. It’s hard. It hurts. I don’t know why things are unfolding as they are for you. I can’t even begin to answer that question for myself at the moment. But I want to see how the story ends. God tells great stories.
One of the things I’ve become acutely aware of in my spiritual journey is that I have to constantly question my motivations. Am I doing something good? Or am I doing something good, for me? In other words, is there a hidden agenda? I’ve deeply desired some things in my life, or produced certain accomplishments, which seemed very noble and holy. But these things were tainted, because at their core, they were just pitiful attempts to fuel my flesh and to feed my insecurities and need for affirmation. Most of us, if we are honest with ourselves, have been guilty of hiding unhealthy motivations under the guise of God-centered activities and accomplishments. Or is it just me?
There’s a great example of this in John 12:1-6. Martha is washing the feet of Jesus with an expensive oil. Judas complains and suggests it would have been better to sell the oil and give money to the poor.
At face value, it is easy to stop and think that maybe Judas had a point. You might even suggest he was being a noble man. But the passage goes on to explain that Judas wasn’t really being sincere. He didn’t care about the poor. He was a thief who frequently stole from the money box. He was using a seemingly God-centered gesture to quench a flesh-filled motivation.
For Judas, it was all about the money. After all, he eventually sold Jesus out for a small payday. Feeding his greed was the only way Judas knew to operate. For me, it’s been affirmation. That means I’ve been a performer all my life. An over-achiever. In the classroom. On the job. Whatever it was, I needed others to perceive that I was awesome at it. Otherwise, I had no peace. I’ve had success in my life. I’ve done some good things. In recent years, my marketing business actually helped a lot of worthy causes. But I did it all under the motivation of being affirmed. That was the hole in me. It wasn’t always a conscious decision. Judas obviously knew very well that he was scheming to steal from the money box when he suggested selling the oil to benefit the poor. In my life, the underlying motivation was usually much harder to detect, unless I went specifically searching for it.
Lately, I’ve done a lot of that. Searching out my true motivations. Weighing them. Separating the healthy from the unhealthy. It’s very sobering work. You start to realize how much of your life has been dedicated to filling holes and how truly disingenuous human beings can actually be.
This also causes me to pause when I’m feeling judgmental of others. As you know, it’s so much easier to psychoanalyze other people’s problems. It’s easier to see self-centered agendas and selfish motivations in someone else. In the past, I’ve been fairly swift to judge individuals when I get a whiff of them trying to trojan horse their way to what they really want or need.
But I’ve come to realize that most people are doing this without really realizing it. And regardless of whether they are aware of it or not, chances are they don’t fully understand how to control it, or have any idea where it’s coming from in the first place. That is unfortunate, because the most likely driver of their unhealthy motivations is an unresolved wound from their past that needs healing. Some experience that created trauma. A lie they have always believed. A betrayal that left them without faith in God or others, or maybe even themselves. Whatever it is, it left a hole. And holes beg to be filled. So, we silly humans try to fill them. We get very creative with this process, but it usually takes failure in our own clever actions to finally accept that God is the only way the hole can be filled, ultimately.
So, we act like Judas and set ourselves up the best ways we know how. Whatever it takes to get us through to the next fix. We get branded as hypocrites, either by ourselves or others or both. We lose our connection with authenticity. That’s not a very joyful way to live. Trust me.
I’ll leave you with this. The next time you are about to do something others would consider “good” or “admirable” or “valiant” or any other positive and affirming reaction, do a quick check of your heart to understand why you are doing it in the first place. Is there any underlying motivation that you need to bring to God and wrestle down to the ground? Marketing folks will tell you that to truly connect with a specific audience, you have to put yourself in their shoes and ask the question, “What’s in it for me?” Turn that question around, and pose it to yourself. Maybe a hidden agenda will arise out of your answer.
Secondly, the next time you are ready to lay down the hammer of judgment on someone else, stop and ask yourself what might be driving their actions? What is the source of their pain? What hole are they trying to fill? What is their hidden agenda? Or how about this one. What is it about their actions that has you so upset? Do you see something in them that reflects something about yourself that you really don’t like? You will have a much more empathetic and Christ-centered response to them, regardless of what they have done. And maybe you’ll be compelled to gently speak truth into their life, and yours, while discovering what’s hiding inside.
Several weeks back, I spent a weekend with a group of men. All of us seeking deeper insight about ourselves, better understanding of God’s plan for our lives. During a break in the action, a few of us were walking the trails of the retreat center and stumbled upon a labyrinth. As we walked single file through the pattern, to the center and back out to the perimeter, we made small talk but mostly relaxed and decompressed from previous high-intensity conversations and group work. It was my first time in a labyrinth. To be honest, outside of Greek mythology, I had never really been exposed to the concept of a labyrinth. All I could remember is that I thought a labyrinth was where they kept the Minotaur. Didn’t sound like a great place to be.
In reality, a labyrinth can be a very peaceful place, full of meditation, focus and relaxation. A place of clarity. And within the pathway of the labyrinth that day, I realized something revolutionary.
I’ve always experienced my life as a very complicated maze. It was overwhelming, all the choices to be made, all the paths I could take. I felt confused and astray most of the time, reaching ahead clumsily with my limited sight, fearing what the next turn would present to me, fearful of a wrong turn or a dead end. I was lost. I thought I needed to solve the maze. I thought there must be a way out.
It turns out that life is less of a maze and more of a labyrinth. At least for those who believe in God as their higher power.
A maze is a complex puzzle that includes choices. It can have multiple entrances and exits and most importantly, dead ends. A labyrinth, by comparison, offers a single, non-branching path, which leads to the center and back out the same way. One entrance. One exit. One pathway.
In Psalm 16:11 it says, “You will show me the path of life.”
Notice that says, “THE” path. The world would tell you that every choice you make sets the path for your future. It’s a choose your adventure kind of life. But God says there is a plan for you. A highly specific plan that has been laid out before you. Sometimes we might be standing still, or walking backwards or feel lost or stuck, but if we step forward in faith, God will deliver us to the center and back again.
The entire book of Jeremiah is about surrendering to God’s will as the only way to escape calamity. There’s only one path. It twists, and it turns and sometimes it seems like you aren’t going anywhere. Sometimes you can almost see your destination, and then it feels like you are headed in the wrong direction, going farther away from where you thought you were being called. But if you persevere in the path God has provided, eventually you will enter into the promises He has made to all who call Him their Lord and Savior. He has ordered our steps. He has carefully crafted the journey He is asking us each to take. It’s not a maze. There aren’t dead ends. There might be pain, suffering, trials, tribulations. Bad decisions. Slow to no progress. But it will all be used to advance you to the ultimate end.
In Proverbs 3:5-7 it says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your paths.”
Conversely, if we don’t place one foot in front of the other, believing we are walking within a labyrinth and not a maze, we will feel much differently about the situation.
In John 12:35 it says, “He who walks in darkness does not know where he is going.” Hosea 9:17 reaffirms this, suggesting that those who don’t trust in Lord’s plan for them will be “wanderers among the nations.”
When you trust that God is in control, the maze of life becomes manageable. You quickly begin to see that while the pattern is complicated, curvy and complex, it is indeed a path. If you are diligent and obedient, this path can lead only to one place. And you’ll be so glad you followed it. When we take things into our own hands, we can paralyze ourselves and convince ourselves that we are trapped in a maze and there’s no hope for escape. I spent way too much of my life convinced of that. I no longer waste energy or time worried about the next turn, because I know that the path I’m on leads me to God and His completely perfect will for my life.
I look back, and I can see how He used all the “wrong turns” and “dead ends” and “slow going” in incredibly powerful ways. Every time I returned my focus on Him, I moved closer to the center, no matter how far I had strayed or how long I had tarried. Life is not a maze. It is a labyrinth. The path you are on is ordained by God. Train your eyes on Him, take the next step forward and soon enough you will see what I have seen. I promise you’ll never be the same.
I’ve been reading a lot of Ecclesiastes lately. Re-reading it would be more exact. Although I’ve read it before, even blogged about it before, it speaks very differently to me now. For starters, the preface in my new Bible sets up what the book is all about, specifically defining what is meant by the term “vanity.” All this time, and I haven’t truly been defining that term properly.
According to my Bible, vanity is “the futile emptiness of trying to be happy apart from God.” I had previously associated that term with pride, vainness, self-centeredness, etc. Thinking about it as futile emptiness that comes from trying to satisfy yourself with anything other than God is much more powerful, and convicting, for my life. It is the definition of where I’ve been.
A few other parts and pieces from ECC that stood out this time through the scripture.
Chapter 1, Verse 18 – In much wisdom is much grief, and he who increases knowledge, increases sorrow.
This has been so true in my life. Stuffing my head with knowledge about what God wants without changing myself, internalizing His words, seeking His will, has left me miserable beyond belief. Similarly in Chapter 6, Verse 9 it says – All the labor of man is for his mouth, and yet the soul is not satisfied.
Chapter 7, Verse 13 – Consider the work of God; for who can make straight what He has made crooked?
And then in 14, In the day of prosperity be joyful, but in the day of adversity, consider that surely God has appointed one as well as the other…I’ve spent most of my life resisting God’s call, fighting his crooked path and trying to make it straight. Trying to avoid the adversity and just receive the prosperity. It doesn’t work like that.
Chapter 10, Verse 15 – The labor of fools wearies them, for they do not even know how to go to the city!
I work so hard and stress so much, and He says, “Hey, you know you aren’t actually accomplishing anything. You are just wearing yourself down and taking yourself out of the game. And still you’ve done less than nothing. But that’s ok, because I’ve got it.” In chapter 9, verse 7 it says basically to chill out because “God has already accepted your works.” God will order my steps. He will light my path. When I go it alone, I’m just walking in darkness, feeling about as a blind man at midnight. By now, you’d think that I would know better than to think I know where the path leads.
Excited to read through ECC one more time. Wondering how God will speak to me differently the next round!
So, since I just restarted blogging here, I decided to comb back through the archives and revisit some of my earlier posts. At first, I thought to myself, “Well, that’s not half bad” and “Hey, I like that one.” And then as I kept reading, and became less self involved (i.e. admiring my own writing), I realized something. I was a fraud. For several years of writing blog posts here, talking about the way God was moving in my life. A friggin fraud.
It’s not that I was lying. God was trying to do all the things I talked about. He was sharing the insights with me. Showing me the way. I just wasn’t moving. Not really. You see, I had intellectualized the call of God. I just hadn’t internalized it. I was processing it with my head, but not passing it along to my heart. I heard the call. I just wasn’t really answering it.
It was easy to share about the magical ways God was stepping into my life. What I didn’t share was how I was not able, capable or willing to do what He asked, what He really needed me to do. Because of that, I pretended and pontificated. Without conviction. Real action. True transformation. I was full of hot air, but my heart was frozen solid.
I eventually got tired of acting like I was working God’s plan, so I quit blogging. I quit praying. I quit seeking. I drifted. Fell off the wagon and was run over by it. And in the darkness, there was no light to be seen, no God to be heard, no path to follow.
And yet, God pursued me. And a world of heartache later, I’m back in that place. He brought me all the way back to where He had me years before. Face to face with what He really wants me to do. I don’t like how I feel when I read those old blog posts. I can’t stomach the person who wrote them, that person who was taking God’s wisdom and tossing it around with wordplay, refusing to apply any of it to his own life. What a fraud! What a phony! What a counterfeit Christian I was.
So now it’s time to live in the truth and walk in the light. Live authentically. Love my God. Love myself. Love my family. Love people. None of which I was doing with any degree of success before. I’m ready, willing and excited to change that.
I was having breakfast with a friend this morning. We talked a lot about baseball, raising kids, life. Eventually, we had to make it around to the awkward topic of my journey, the war that I’m currently waging, as I fight my way closer to being the man God designed me to be. As we were chatting, my friend posed a thoughtful question to me. Likely intending it to be hypothetical.
“Why is it that we have to be broken to be used by God?”
I didn’t even hesitate in responding. Because I know. If we have any other path, any other hope, any other semblance of a plan that we think will work, we won’t rest in God. We won’t trust Him. We will do it our way. Before I could help myself, I wandered into a lengthy analogy, which I would like to share here. I think it explains fairly well why we must be broken before God can actually work with us.
Say you have a car. And let’s say that car has lots of things wrong with it. Dents along the bumpers. A door that won’t open from the outside. A busted headlight. Screeching brakes. A cracked windshield. Despite all these defects, these imperfections, we can still drive the car. And many of us do. It’s not running perfectly, but if we’re trying to avoid the expense or the inconvenience of having it professionally repaired, we can limp along with it for months or years.
It’s not until the transmission falls out of the bottom of it that we actually get help. It’s not until we are on the side of the road, broken down, with literally no other option than to call the mechanic and beg for his divine intervention.
It’s the same with God. We will walk, limp, crawl, drag ourselves forward. It’s not until we are broken, desperate and left on the roadside of life that most of us turn our eyes to God and say, “Ok, have thy will and thy way with me.”
That’s me. I was driving a wreck of a life. The headlights were out, the brakes were shot, my tires worn down to the wires. I was driving in the pitch black into oncoming traffic, not knowing where I was even trying to go. It was storming, and I had no windshield wipers. The winds were blowing, and I had no power steering. And yet, I just kept pushing the gas. Gripping the wheel. Driving.
It wasn’t until I hit the wall, or whatever it was, that I finally stopped. When I couldn’t go further. When it was literally impossible for me to do this on my own. The mechanic showed up. Answered my prayer. And began to restore me so I could fly down the road like a finely tuned machine on the way to a far better place.
I’m broken. But I’m beautifully made. And finally, I get to find out what that feels like, and what God wants to do with me. Amen!
God recently decided to remodel my life a bit. Ok, so it’s more like wrecking and rebuilding it. More of that to come. But for now, first let me say hello again. It’s been a really long time. I’ve missed this. Writing. Sharing. Seeking. Moving forward, I’m going to be doing a lot of that. And in a very genuine way for the first time ever.
Before we dig in to what God is doing in my life, let me say this. I’m doubting all the way. Fighting disbelief. Making God to be smaller than He is. And with every step I take, He is showing up. Bigger and better. And making me feel very foolish for continuing to offer up a mustard seed of faith, instead of a mountain of it.
I was reading in Isaiah tonight, chapter 66. And in verse 9, God asks a few really pointed questions:
“Shall I bring to the time of birth, and not cause delivery? Shall I who cause delivery shut up the womb?”
Basically, what He was saying to me was this: Why in the world would I put you in this position, bring you to this place, put everything you have on the line, and then not deliver for you? Why the build up, the suspense? I could have just let you die quietly. No need for a public execution! Don’t you think I have a miracle to work here? Don’t you think this is all too well ordered to end in chaos? Too organized to have no point? Too divine to not end with power and grace?
I see his point. There is no need to let me labor like this if He isn’t going to deliver and bring the miracle of life into my world. No reason at all.
In the end, this is all I have to believe. I don’t have to know exactly how it happens, or where the road leads or even what the destination actually is. I just have to trust that through this labor, comes love. That He delivers. And in my life, it’s coming soon!
I look forward to more frequent conversations here. And if you are out there, feel free to say hi back!
I read something today that struck me, so I’m sharing it here with you.
The most recent issue of Sports Illustrated includes a groundbreaking article. It is the story of Jason Collins who, with the publishing of the column, became the first American pro athlete to publicly declare that he is gay. This is not a blog post to opine on the significance of his announcement. Nor is it an essay debating the Christian response to homosexual lifestyles. In fact, Jason’s sexual preference has little to nothing to do with what I’m saying here. His announcement isn’t what struck me. It was a specific excerpt from it that compelled me to post. During the interview, he says:
“No one wants to live in fear. I’ve always been scared of saying the wrong thing. I don’t sleep well. I never have. But each time I tell another person, I feel stronger and sleep a little more soundly. It takes an enormous amount of energy to guard such a big secret. I’ve endured years of misery and gone to enormous lengths to live a lie. I was certain that my world would fall apart if anyone knew. And yet when I acknowledged my sexuality I felt whole for the first time.”
Wow. Don’t know about you, but I’ve felt like that. Most of us have felt like that. Just take “sexuality” out of the last line. Leave a blank there, and write in your specific word. Now read the paragraph again out loud. I bet it resonates. We all have pasts. Secrets. Scars. Wounds. Imperfections. Regrets. And most of us hide them away in the deepest, darkest corners. And in the darkness they grow. They get bigger. They seem uglier. And we expend great energy to keep them from the light. And in one way or another, they continue to wear on us. Influence our actions. Rob our peace. Interrupt our pursuits.
What I took from Jason’s story isn’t whether or not he should be proud to be gay. It’s that he was brave enough to shine light on the one thing he was most afraid to admit.
The next time you and I have something we want or need to share, something that we need to shine light on in order to be true to ourselves, I hope we’ll remember that everyone has secrets. Only the brave among us are willing to share.
Another March is gone, and the madness of the NCAA tournament is almost over. As usual, we’ve seen heavy favorites fall short and dramatic underdogs write a new Cinderella story. And as usual, we’re left in awe of a team like Florida Gulf Coast who comes out of nowhere to rock the house, and are disappointed with a storied powerhouse like Georgetown who can’t get the job done against a seemingly inferior opponent.
God loves a good underdog story. It’s like He just doesn’t want anyone out there to be happy with their brackets. He has shown over and again what He can do with a heart that is willing.
We sometimes think of God only as being loving, forgiving, kind, passive. Not as strong, powerful, active. We think of Him watching over us. But not warring with us. Yet this is the picture painted by David in 2 Samuel 22: 8-20:
…the earth shook and trembled…the foundations of heaven moved and shook…smoke went up from Him nostrils and devouring fire from his mouth…he bowed the heavens…He was seen upon the wings of the wind..the Lord thundered from heaven…He sent out arrows and scattered them, lightning bolts…
That is the power we hold inside. That is the same fuel that David used throughout his lifetime. It’s hard to think of a better example of an underdog, since every mismatch in sports history has been referred to as David vs. Goliath.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve had experience as the heavy favorite who didn’t deliver, the underdog that overcame the odds AND as the underdog who got crushed because he never believed he could win in the first place. I have a well-rounded appreciation for how things can go. Regardless, I also know that the power of God is within me. I just need to tap into it.
I also gained a little perspective from this year’s tourney. I badly bruised my thigh and twisted my knee last week playing pick up basketball. It’s as close to NCAA as I will ever know. Six a.m. in the gym. I was so bummed about having to go on injured reserve, not to mention the searing pain in my leg every time I stand up. But wow, I got off easy compared to Kevin Ware of the Louisville Cardinals, now didn’t I?
For those of you who don’t watch basketball, even in March, and haven’t heard the story, here it is. With his team on the verge of making the Final Four and competing for a championship, Kevin landed awkwardly and endured one of the most sickening injuries in the history of sports. His leg literally came through the skin. Sorry for those with weak stomachs. I won’t post the video here, but just let me say that this is a great example of perspective. My throbbing knee when I stand up. His leg, shattered in front a national audience. My injury likely prevents me from a couple of weeks of semi competitive, rec center ball. His prevents him from playing for a national title, likely a dream of his since the first time he touched a basketball.
So with all that I’ll leave you with this. I just filled out my worst bracket in 20 years. But I still have a chance to win my pool as we head into the final weekend, thanks to Syracuse. That just goes to show that nothing is impossible in God, and sometimes in March.
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