Between services yesterday I was lured out into the cloudless, cool autumn afternoon. All four of my sons were there in the yard. We played football. I am the all-time quarterback. Wes, the youngest, pairs with Kyle, the oldest. Chuk, the fleet, teams with Daniel, the rising star. It was an aerial display. Every play was a passing play. I am sure I tossed more touchdown passes than any pro quarterback in the nation yesterday. Everybody scored over and over again.
That’s when I had a really bad idea. I would run a pass-route against each of my sons until I scored against each of them. This must have been rooted in senility. I scored on Wesley on the second play. (He’s eleven). It took be about seventeen plays before I scored on Daniel, who is fourteen. (I think eventually he started to feel pity for me). Charles is twenty. Trying to score on him, I think I aggravated an old hamstring pull. I didn’t even try to score on Kyle.
I hit the shower to ready for our evening service. I’m feelin’ it this morning. At my age and in my condition my goal should be to just keep moving forward instead of sprinting all over the yard. You have to know your limits.
The idea of gearing down in any way bothers me. This is just one more reason the idea of eternal life appeals to me. The clock is running down and soon the fans will get up and start filing out of the stadium. Before that happens it is really not important to me how athletic these young men are, but I pray moment-by-moment that they will be valiant for God, skilled in the work of God, desperate in their pursuit of Him, until they are old and sluggish like me.
O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. (18) So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come. (Psa 71:17-18 ESV )
September 25, 2006