The Book of James
Continued
Game Over
Gtcotr/ws013019
From
the 4th grade onward I went to school in the rural western part of
Bowie County in Northeast Texas. The school district was quite large
geographically and buses ran for miles and miles down graveled roads to pick up
one more child from a farm. Some children spent an extra 2 to 3 hours on the
school bus every day. I was one of the
fortunate children, I lived closer to the school and drove our old 8n Ford
tractor to school and back. It didn’t have any brakes but that seemed normal
and so no one was concerned.
The
environment in which a child is raised seems normal to the child … right up
until they realize that not everyone is living like this. Anyway, there were
less than 30 people in my graduating class of 1973 at James Bowie High School
in Simms, Texas. We were the fighting Pirates.
During
most of my years at James Bowie, the school was challenged to get enough boys
together to field a football team. This usually meant that if you played
football, you played every play of the game. Although I was a relatively small
young man, 5’1”, 110 pounds in my freshman and sophomore years, I nonetheless
suited up and played every play of every football game. I was fast and
slippery, that coupled with the fact that I didn’t necessarily like getting
hurt, settled me in as the offensive running back; defensive safety; kick-off
and punt returner; and one of the first ones chasing right behind our opponents
as they moved the ball down the field to score.
I
must admit … we weren’t that good in my years as a Fighting Pirate, but we did
our best. Losses just didn’t seem to keep us from going back out there next
week and doing it all over again.
In
my junior year, along about the very end of the season, the weather was
freezing cold and it began to rain that Friday and finally about sundown it
turned into sleet. Our football field was no better than our team. It had dips and
shallow low places that quickly filled up with water, as much as 5 or 6 inches
in some places. That night, the surface of those miniature lakes froze over and
underneath was a slush of mud and ice. I was so cold.
Over
all the 50 years since, I have looked back to one moment on the field that
night and clearly remembered what I said to myself … I have never forgotten it.
Someone didn’t show up for our team and it made us have to shift everyone
around to cover every position. I was pulled up from the safety position on
defense and put on the line. Bear in mind that our opponent’s line averaged 220
pounds and each one outweighed me by at least 100 pounds. But, I was the best
we had to fill that position and so the coach told me to strike hard, push
back, penetrate the line and look for the ball. I can remember him saying that
over and over with each timeout and delay of game.
It
just wasn’t possible. I truly tried my best but the whole game felt like Ronnie
torture. We were losing as usual but that wasn’t my concern. I was more focused
on the fact that I was freezing … literally freezing.
Right
near the end of the game, the other team had the ball and were almost midfield
on the right side. I lined up against the giant and said to myself, “strike
hard; push back; penetrate the line and look for the ball.” Then, the ball was snapped,
and I pushed as best I could but here came the running back and everything was
moving my way. As usual for the night … they had correctly forecasted the weak
spot in our defense.
My
capable opponent, head to knee (my head, his knee) slapped me down to the
ground right into one of those slush ponds. I felt ice break and the slush and
freezing cold water rush up into my helmet, down the front of my jersey and it
super shocked my whole body as a pile of offensive and defensive players pushed
and struggled and finally came to rest on top of me. I was 17 years old and I
truly didn’t know if I was going to make it out of that pile alive. The cold
made everything and every one move slower it seemed. And then there was the
fact that if a person was in the middle of the pile, it was warm being
surrounded by all those bodies. However, for me, on the bottom of the pile,
laying trapped in that freezing cold water, every second seemed like it might
be my last. But, struggle and yell as much as I liked, I still couldn’t budge
even an inch.
It
was at that time I said something to myself, just before I saw something, that
changed the way I think even today. What I said to myself was in effect, “I am
the coldest I have ever been in my life. I will never be colder than I am right
now. I am going to remember this moment and if I am ever colder, I will know I
was wrong.” Isn’t it odd that some intense moments are burned into our memories
and are markers in our lives for our whole lives?
I
have been mighty cold since that winter night in 1971. And, every time I get
real cold I think to myself, “Am I as cold as I was that night?” The answer has
always been, “nope!” Laying in that few inches of half frozen water on that
football field underneath a pile of people that night continues to be the
coldest moment of my life.
High
intense emotions seem to burn memoires of every little aspect of an event in
the wrinkles of our brains. I can remember my helmet was filled with mixed mud
and ice that sloshed when I fell and my head was turned to the left. From the
bottom of that pile, laying with my body half covered in freezing water it was
a moment truly frozen in time. Instead of panicking when people weren’t getting
up quickly, I registered my thoughts and then I saw
something that gave me hope.
From
my trapped position and through the layered bodies on top of me I could see the
scoreboard … we were losing … but what especially caught my eye was the clock.
It was the last quarter and we had less than a minute to play before the game
was over. That became my hope. All of the sudden I realized that I had made it
and it would all be over in just a minute. When I was tempted to give up and
give in to fear and panic and pain, I became encouraged. It will all be over
soon!
That
was the last football game I ever played. The following year was my senior year
and I had a full-time job working 48 hours each week and I got married that
year instead of playing sports. The team didn’t miss me and I didn’t miss
playing all that much either … I had a new focus in life.
I
don’t think things would have turned out much different for me if I hadn’t have
seen that clock but I do know for certain that it made me feel so much better
realizing that what I was going through would be over soon. All I needed was
just a little more endurance … just a little more patience … just a little more
long suffering, and then I’d hear that buzzer and I could go home. Going home
and getting warm was going to be my win.
Have
you found the book of James yet? Let’s read from:
James 5 NKJV
7 Therefore be patient,
brethren, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the
precious fruit of the earth, waiting patiently for it until it receives the
early and latter rain.
8 You also be patient.
Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand.
Wait
patiently can mean to not sink, nor run away, not withdraw; don’t panic; don’t
become fearful; don’t become aggressive and fight against. Put your focus on
the end … the finish line … the harvest … and endure.
What
is your win? Success
is often a matter of perspective …
Patience
here means to be long-suffering; long-patience; long-endurance.
Establish
your heart = fix it on the win and don’t let time, temptations or trials give
sufficient cause to let your heart be moved.
Time
is shorter than you may think, and trials will be over soon. Everything has a
time and then it’s over. Whether a ball game or life. If things don’t change
beforehand, they will definitely change at the coming of the Lord.
It’s
like looking up at the scoreboard and seeing the clock has only seconds left in
the game. We are encouraged, especially when we know we are the winners, to
realize there is but a short time until the final buzzer and our victory will
be realized and the game over. What is your win?
Troubled
moments are not the rest of your life … it’s just a moment.
The game
is not up to you … how you play the game is.
Play
your best even against overwhelming odds. Sometimes that means just
participating. We can’t just give up and wait ‘till the game is over.
1. Get up
2. Show up
3. Suit up
4. Stand up
5. Finish the Game …
Just
do your personal best and let God be responsible for the rest.
