When Basketball Isn’t God’s Will

Right from my personal notebook.

I’m continuing a series I started on Monday called When Obedience is Costly. Yesterday I mentioned I would elaborate on how saying yes to something means saying no to other things. Obedience to God is costly because sometimes saying ‘yes’ just isn’t the right thing to do, even if the choice is one we greatly desire.

Our kids all played basketball. This biased mom thinks they were each pretty good. As would be expected, though, the son who topped out at 6’5″ was a particularly welcome addition to his teams. His high school coach had connections at a local university and offered to arrange a walk-on tryout for Jesse. While he had no guarantees of making the team, Benny wisely advised our son to walk through the decision-making process prior to the tryout. After all, being offered a spot on a team could too easily color his decision after the fact. (Benny and I have learned the hard way that most decisions should be anticipated before rather than during emotionally charged situations.)

We went to dinner one night to talk things through. Benny explained the principle above and encouraged Jesse to make a list of the things he would be saying ‘no’ to if he said ‘yes’ to playing for the University of Central Florida. Jesse was understandably intrigued by the possibility of playing college ball. What athlete wouldn’t be? And, honestly, our family would have been his biggest fans if that was God’s plan.

Jesse left that evening knowing he had a formidable assignment from Dad. He had to prayerfully and practically consider all the situations and relationships that would be affected by the rigors of collegiate sports. When we got back together several days later to talk, Jesse soberly told us he thought he should tell his coach not to schedule the tryout. A part of him desperately wanted to know if he could make the team. When he saw on paper the lengthy list of what he would say no to, however, saying yes to the opportunity to play college ball just didn’t weigh enough.

Only God knew that what was just around the corner for our son was a relationship with the woman who is now his wife and the mom of his three sons, plus an opportunity to pursue his dream of becoming a pastor (something that he put on hold for now while he provides for his family as an IT guy).

Obeying God is sometimes crystal clear and other times clear as mud. More on that tomorrow.

The Beauty of Brokenness

Yesterday I was talking about not apologizing for God’s will. A friend commented on the post, saying, “…although there are trying circumstances weighing on me, the good far outweighs the bad. I can speak like the Israelites who said in Psalm 126:1, ‘When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream.'”

I’m asking myself if I am one of “those who dream.”

I think part of what I’ve been walking through recently is the disappointment of some of my dreams not coming true. Here’s an example…

When I was younger (umm, much younger) I dreamed that Benny and I would serve at the same church for forever and ever. We started a church at age 25 and then spent two decades growing and serving and sinning and making memories together. Many of the people who helped get the church off the ground persevered through the hard work, challenges and leadership changes — and are still there three decades later. In those early years we talked about being buried in the woods behind the building we all sacrificed to see happen…and mused about replacing the little ones we held in our arms during worship with our future grandchildren someday.

Two churches and lots of gray hairs later, I now hold my grandchildren hundreds of miles away from that place. Sometimes I still battle sadness over forever and ever not happening there.  With them. I see pictures of their grown-up children on facebook and remember holding them in my lap, then wonder, “Do those kids even know who I am?”

Then I think about the people I wouldn’t otherwise know. The tears and prayers and fellowship and laugh-till-I-cried moments that wouldn’t have happened with friends I wouldn’t have gained. The trials and suffering that awaited me here in Florida that I needed to get to so I could experience God’s help in delightful, sanctifying ways.

Broken dreams are hard to handle. Until I think of Eden. I think about how God’s perfect and beautiful plan for His image-bearers was broken by sin. Yet even before the garden was created, God devised a plan. From the brokenness came a glorious plan of redemption that put God’s wisdom and love on display when our sinless Savior paid the ultimate price.

When I was dreaming about forever and ever, God knew my dreams wouldn’t be fulfilled my way. But how can I not praise Him for the experiences and people that wouldn’t have otherwise happened if there was really a place for me to be buried out in those woods?

It’s like seeing a lovely mirror crashed and broken on the floor.  Now, rather than one piece of reflective beauty, there are many. My broken dream has resulted in numerous unsolicited yet precious gifts — including a brand new church to which God knew my broken dream would lead.

My friend reminded me of dreaming. I hope her reminder blesses you today.

Dream on.