It's Game Time
Growing up I played several sports; basketball, baseball, track, and cross country. I also competed in debate, public speaking, and theatre. As an adult I’ve had the privilege to coach all of the above except track and cross country, those two are for the truly stout of heart.
One thing I learned on both sides of the coaching fence is that game time is no time for practice. Success on the court/field/stage depends on the preparations made in practice. Could you win a game or two here and there on the fly? Certainly. Can you do it with consistency? Not likely.
How much more this is true in matters of faith. Over the past 25 years of marriage and ministry we’ve learned the importance of practice; of preparation for game time.
I’ve often said from the pulpit, “Faith is something to strengthen in the day, not investigate in the dark night of the soul.” You can’t wait until game day to practice.
This week we realized it’s Game Time. Again.
A dear friend told me once, our family has had its proverbial face in a wood chipper for the past decade. He’s not wrong.
There have been many instances of “why”, “why now”, “why us”, “why her” over the last 12.5 years. Today was one of those days.
Several weeks ago we saw a spike in Brynna’s seizure activity. A newly revisited problem we had all but abandoned since Fall of 2007. When this old fiend reared its head, it did so with gusto. Over the past week we’ve seen even more increase in activity.
Practice is over. It’s game time.
Tonight, I went to Tyler for some solo shopping. While I was gone she had a third seizure for the day. This one more severe than the last. Our hearts were broken. Again.
On the drive home, all alone in the dark, me and Jesus had a chat. Not an irreverent one, but a sincere and loving bit of fellowship. About that time the meat of my “Affections for Jesus” playlist rolled around to my favorite praise songs. These are the ones I play when I need a boost. For 40 minutes I wept as I drove. By the way, that’s not safe, don’t do it. Pull over.
I asked my questions all over again; “why”, “why her”, “why us” … same as before, but this time, it seemed different. There was a reassurance He was up to something for our good and His glory. Out loud I declared our trust in Him while I begged Him for healing. I sobbed and asked the cup to pass, but also asked for His purpose to show. To be truthful, I’d rather see the healing than the joy of perseverance. But that’s not our call.
For 40 minutes I sang, prayed, and wept. Just like mom did this morning after episodes 1 and 2. We’re OK walking this road if it’s the road He has for us, but that doesn’t stop us from asking for a detour, an off-ramp, or even a well-designed roadside stop.
The path to Jesus is paved with suffering, unfortunately. I wish she wasn’t the one to endure it. We’d trade places in a fraction of a heartbeat. Yet here we are; Trusting. Singing. Praying. Praising. Crying. Hoping …
… but most of all, knowing. Knowing that nothing comes to us that hasn’t already passed through the very loving fingers of His perfect will. Nothing befalls us that shocks Him, surprises Him, or leaves Him wondering what to do next. He is already in the next, already present for the grand finale.
Practice is over. It’s game time, again. I’m thankful Jesus is already in the winner’s circle.
