Inch By Inch, Play By Play...Til We're Finished

Some days, I just feel restless.

Being part of a church family with a major missional life focus has got me thinking.

Back in grade school days, I had some big plans. Here were my life plans in chronological order:

1. Lifeguard in high school (Whistle on a lanyard = rare unbridled power. And, hey, you gotta start somewhere. Kurt Warner used to be a grocery shelf stocker and just look where it got him.)


2. Dolphin trainer in college (I guess I figured if I had to pay for my nightlife, I may as well have a sweet way of doing it. Except for the part where I got to College Station and discovered they don't really have dolphins there...just lots and lots of football. And even that is debatable sometimes.)


3. Pediatrician after college (Except for the part where I got to College Station and discovered I really, really stink at science...even political science. What really sealed the deal was the B I got in the "easiest A on campus" - biomedical science 101. Hey Freshman Class of '13, it really pays to go to class and hear the deadline on that paper titled "What I Want to be When I Grow Up" so you can get an A just for turning it in...on time. )


4. And, finally, I was going to retire and be a medical missionary in Africa (especially Ethiopia - it was the '80s and what I remember seeing on t.v. in the '80s was He-Man, Jem, The Smurfs and lots of starving children in Ethiopia.) My heartstrings were pulled and I knew I wanted to do something to help.

It's 2009 and I'm happy to report that I did accomplish two of those life goals. If you were a swimmer at Crawford Park Pool between 1993 and 1996, your life was guarded by my vigilant eyes watching over you while I simultaneously worked on my really awesome tan...to the point I may pay for that experience in the form of moles someday. (Why couldn't my 31 year old self have slapped her upside the head had a heart-to-heart with my 16 year old self?)

And, I did get to accomplish the last goal, minus the MD title (and paycheck...and status), when I went to South Africa as a missionary in '07 and '08. WOW, what a blessing those trips were.

But, somewhere between 1985 and now, my perspective on life changed and I realized the other day that, whatever my role or job title is, I desire to be this:

1. An empty vessel. Poured out. Nothing left to give.

Don't we all? To be that player that leaves it all on the field. Jordan...Game 6...Utah Jazz...45 points...game winning jumper. Al Pacino's Any Given Sunday speech about willing to fight and die for that inch (minus the profanity, oh my word) "because that is what LIVING is." Jesus, on the cross. "It is finished." The gypsy moth that succumbs to death after mating which, if nothing else, that should tell you it had some kind of dedication and vision.

My pastor, Jeff Warren, has a lovely way of phrasing this (this notion, not the moth's weird mating-related suicide). It goes something like, "The paradox of Christianity is this, you are the most blessed when you have humbled yourself to serve others." Beautiful, isn't it? But, what does that look like? What does it mean to live with the desire to serve others in such a sacrificial way? To what degree will I Go and Be? I'm still trying to figure that out. I wrestle to find the answer in the quiet moments. Searching makes me restless. I want to know what gives a person courage to lay down their own life, their own needs, their own comforts and their own desires to Go serve others and Be Christ in the flesh.

Spc. Ross McGinnis, 19. A soldier who covered a grenade with his body and, in so doing, laid down his life for his buddies. He knew. Dr. Ellice Hammond, the Australian mom who denied herself chemotherapy and died so her unborn daughter could live. She knew. The impoverished widow who gave away her two copper coins, all that she had to live on. She knew. Jim Elliot, Nate Saint, Roger Youderian, Pete Fleming and Ed McCully. They went to tell the Waodani about Jesus and help them stop killing each other...and they were speared to death. They knew.

What made them different? What gave them courage? What does it take to live sacrificially?

I want whatever it is they had.

I hope I figure this out and then I hope I have the courage to do what I'm called to do. Whatever that something may be.

Because restlessness is not a comfortable place to be.

You find out that life is just a game of inches. So is football. Because in either game, life or football, the margin for error is so small. I mean, one half step too late or too early you don't quite make it. One half second too slow or too fast and you don't quite catch it. The inches we need are everywhere around us. They are in every break of the game, every minute, every second. We claw with our fingernails for that inch. Cause we know, when we add up all those inches, that's going to make the difference between WINNING and LOSING, between LIVING and DYING. Al Pacino, censored by a Mommy, Any Given Sunday