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Basketball fans can still hear the words, “And now, the starting lineup for your Chicago Bulls . . .” The words echoed as Pippen, Grant, Cartwright, Armstrong, and Jordan were announced. High schools and colleges still imitate these now famous words.
Most students often have to answer questions about their future plans. Whether we are asked about our plans for school, the weekend, or even just the afternoon, it generally isn't that hard to answer. "Oh, I'm going to [this university] and participating in [this sport]." Or, "I'm going to chill with some friends." Etc. One day though, I found myself answering a question that was a little more serious: “What are your plans for your life?”
I’m a proud alum today. Last night my University of Kansas Jayhawks won their first NCAA National Title in 20 years—and in pretty dramatic fashion, coming back from a 9-point deficit with about two minutes to go in the second half.
Most would agree that character is vital for success in any organization, team, or family, yet today’s news is filled with examples of bad character. Nehemiah was in the process of building a wall, but he recognized that if some character issues were not addressed, the completion of the wall would be insignificant. Rebuilding a physical wall was not all that God had called Nehemiah to do. God called Nehemiah to a much greater ministry—a ministry to the heart.
Hockey Chat: Can you imagine during a game have a bunch of guys sitting on the bench. Then a skater comes up from your team ready to line change and every one on the bench just looks at each other. No one knows who is going to what position. Who’s up next? No pre-thought to what happens next, just confusion. Great teams know ahead of time who is going where and when. The coach has planned what line to go out next. He’s placed the players where they will be most effective and with others they will be effective skating with.
Lately I’ve been having some “if I” moments in my life. I love the TV show “The Biggest Loser” and wonder how, if I lost some weight, my knee might not hurt as much. But then I don’t change how I eat or exercise. Then I hear my friends talking about playing hoops on Saturday mornings and think that, if I try to play, I could get back into shape again. But then I never make the effort to try. My intentions are good, but my heart is not changing. What’s the deal?
A few weeks ago, my basketball coach asked me to consider playing junior varsity instead of varsity. At that time, I made the decision that if he ultimately decided to put me on JV, I would quit playing basketball and concentrate all my focus on softball and cross-country. Just a few days ago, he asked me to play JV basketball, for my own sake--"To get more playing time." It was a tough choice, but I decided to decline his offer, hang up my sneakers and pick up a softball glove.
A few weeks ago my family travelled to San Francisco to support my dad in the Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon. The athletes actually swam 1.5 miles from Alcatraz Island to the shore, completed an 18-mile bike ride and then finished with an 8-mile run.
It’s usually a good rule of thumb to stay away from stereotypes and cultural clichés in order to avoid potentially embarrassing confrontations with the obligatory “exception to the rule.” But in Curtis Brown’s case, even he admits that a predictable portion of life in Saskatchewan—his native Canadian province—can be described in two words: farming and hockey.
Born in the small rural town of Unity, Brown grew up on a farm where he instinctively fell in line with the majority of his young friends. “What Canadians do is hockey,” Brown says. “I was probably about four when I started skating. I was just like the other kids. If you didn’t play hockey, you were definitely an outsider.”
My brother Judd stopped by to visit the other night. It’s always great to see him. He is in the process of transforming his life and is now a triathlete. So far, he’s competed in two triathlons, and I’m so proud of him. While this kind of competition is not uncommon for many former athletes, Judd’s situation is a little different.
We all have seen the ads about the “Easy” button. Just hit the Easy button and things become easy. I actually have an Easy button on my desk that doesn’t work anymore, because I used it so much. I think the batteries died.
I love the “easy “button,” but I think a better button would be a “New” button — one that gives us a fresh start. We could hit it at the beginning of a year (or month or day) and start over with a clean slate. Wouldn’t that be great? We could hit the New button for lots of things: diet, workout routine, pets, schools, sports teams, coaches, friends or jobs. The list could go on and on.
If we were to count on our hands the number of times someone has let us down or the number of times we’ve disappointed someone else, we’d definitely run out of fingers! Because we are human, we fail all the time, whether in relationships, careers, or daily disciplines. In fact, our life on earth seems full of opportunities to learn from our mistakes. So it’s a good thing we have promises like Psalm 103:12, “As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us.”
I was the youngest varsity basketball coach in Indiana. I studied older coaches to gain knowledge, but one area to which I never paid enough attention was when to talk and when to keep quiet. I learned the hard way: by my second year of coaching, I’d received more than ten technical fouls, not for bad language, but for opening my mouth at the wrong time. These failures made me wonder if I’d ever master control over my tongue.
Solomon knew that there is a time for speaking and a time to guard our mouths, and many of us would do well to learn his lesson. All too often our lips keep moving when we should be listening. We fall too easily into traps made by our own speech; we forget that if our mouth doesn’t open, we will not be creating a trap to fall into.
For four years I watched my little girl, Julianna, walk, run, and twirl her way through our church. For thirteen years I watched another girl in our church, Kindra, live her entire life confined to a wheelchair. One Sunday, Kindra’s mom brought her to church with a new spring outfit. I noticed that there were new shoes, but they sat in Kindra’s lap. After the service, Kindra’s mother gave the shoes to my wife with the request that our daughter wear them. For the next few services, I observed the mom watching Julianna move about the church property in the shoes that Kindra could not wear.
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