A Game Well Played

Apparently, I'm intimidating when I play volleyball.

At least that's what a friend told me last week when I went to our women's gym/rec night in the church gym.

Sports are not a big part of my life. I enjoy exercise, and I am very active. But competitive sports mean little to me.

Except volleyball.

Our friendly game this past week was nothing like the games I once played in high school. Only three or four of us had ever really played before. It is probably safe to say out of all of us that I had the most experience.

I started thinking about that afterward, as I watched my hand turn a lovely dark shade of grey and purple from repeatedly bumping the ball. What made me so passionate about volleyball? It's an easy answer. Mrs. Whitecotton.

She was my high school volleyball coach. From her I learned such key phrases as "Relentless pursuit" and "Sacrifice your body." She was highly unimpressed by theatric falls. She knew when we were faking it and she knew when we were seriously after the ball. She taught us to be constantly on our guard, always ready to go for it. If we dawdled or socialized on the court, we could be sure we'd be taken out of the game.

Mrs. Whitecotton's attitude paid off, at least for our volleyball team. We did well. We won a lot of games. We got good at what she taught us to do.

She reminds me a little bit of Jesus. He knows when we're faking it. He cares whether we do it with all our heart. He is always urging us to press on, relentlessly pursue, make ourselves a living sacrifice. He cares enough about us and the job he's given us to do that he will devote himself to training us, perfecting us and sending us out on that court of life.

As I put my whole heart into being a good volleyball player, I pray I'll do the same for Jesus. May I get to the end of the game exhausted and spent, but joyful as I see His smile and hear His voice.

"Well played."