“It took Him just a day to make the moon and stars, the sun and the earth and Jupiter and Mars. How loving and patient He must be, if He is still working on me...”
Today I played basketball with five 6th graders.
Every afternoon the kids have “free time”. Or sort of free time. Each staff member pre-chooses an activity to lead during scheduling the week before and then the kids can choose from the ones we offer on that day.
And today, today I took who ever wished to join me outside to shoot some hoops. Granted, B-ball couldn’t compete with archery or dodgeball, but my faithful few followed me outside where it proved to be a beautiful afternoon.
For about a half an hour, we had a rocking game of guys vs. girls. This turned out to be a two vs. four adventure...I myself on the side of the four, seeing as I was a girl and all. The arbitrary point goal was declared to be 30 with each basket counting as two points. [It goes only as a side note that the boys put in their winning basket with the girls struggling behind at 18 points.]
As the game came to an end, the kids decided to free shoot. My two guys took one ball and chose one of our four outdoor baskets and my three girls headed to another. And well, let’s face it, I was cool to hang out with when we were playing a real game but as one of the girls tossed me the third ball, I caught the quizzical eyes. The ones that said “you didn’t save us from being slaughtered by two boys, you can play by yourself.” Okay, it wasn’t that bad; they were friendly enough. But sometimes you get when sixth graders need their space. So I took the ball and headed to a hoop between the two...where I could effectively monitor both teams.
And I began to shoot.
I shot baskets for a couple minutes with a mixed degree of success. I played basketball in elementary school. Fourth and fifth grade mostly. I was stoked to receive “best left-handed shot” when awards were handed out at the end of the season until I realized I was the only one on the team that shot left handed. And this might be the first time I publicly admit that the three-point shot during that 5th grade basketball game that saved my reputation for another semester was actually a really bad pass. I was hoping to get it to the girl NEXT to the basket so she could go in for a lay-up. Oops. Needless, when 6th grade sign-ups went around, I decided it was time for me to sit out...
However, I’m not the world’s worst player (bottom 25 maybe, but not worst) and do enjoy shooting baskets especially on days where I need something to release stress and block out the world. I couldn’t exactly block out the world...the safety and well-being of five campers was up to me...but shooting some baskets ‘just because’ was an option. And I took it.
I made myself a goal. 10 baskets and then I would check the time.
Shoot. Miss. Shoot. Miss. Shoot. Miss. Shoot. Miss. Shoot. In. Shoot. Miss. Repeat.
It was a slow go. My campers contentedly played at their hoops...one girl eagerly giving another a shooting lesson.
“My thoughts are mine for the next 10 minutes” I considered as another one of my misaimed shots ricocheted off the backboard.
So I changed the rules. So that I could pseudo-spend some moments with Jesus.
For every miss I could offer a petition. For every basket a praise.
Shoot. Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss. Miss. Dribble. Miss. In.
I could have come up with enough petitions to keep my rules closely adhered to...but it bothered me. Bothered me that I would praise less simply because I am not very good at basketball. So I switched. A praise for every miss. A petition for every basket.
At first my praises started very practical.
Miss...I praise You because there is sunshine today...
Miss...because the ball didn’t just roll all the way into the pond again
Miss...because my legs work to go catch the ball rolling down the hill
In...Please be with the missions teams from SAU that are across the country and even the world this week serving you. My heart is in PR...
Miss...because it is trying to be spring time. I love spring time.
Miss...because You are good
Miss...because it is almost dinner and I don’t want to eat but I can. My needs are met far beyond
In...for the friends I miss so dearly. For their needs – whatever they may be at this moment. Please meet them. Let them know I love them. That You love them.
And on I went. Interchanging my constant misses and their accompanying praises with an occasional “swish” and a heartfelt petition to the throne.
Eventually I made to basket ten. My before-stated goal. I changed the rules again. I decided basket ten had to be made from behind the free throw line. I shot and missed a dozen times.
Finally I squinted into the sun as my basketball made it through the net. “...Because I’m not finished yet.” I declared as an end to my basketball prayers. I stopped and laughed and then paused.
“Where did that come from? And furthermore... ‘because’? That was a basket. Was that supposed to be a praise or a petition, Anika?” For whatever reason I decided the distinction of following my “rules” mattered.
I stood holding the ball. “Both.” I declared decidedly.
“I look at myself right now, Father, and I know I have so much further to go. Immeasurably further. I am not finished. I want to be finished. I want to be more finished than I am if I can’t be finished all together. So it’s a petition.”
I paused. “And a praise. If this is all I would ever be, what a hopeless life indeed. Daddy, thank you for the fact that I’m not finished yet.”
For all that I am and all that I will be...
How loving and patient He must be, if He is still working on me...
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