Wednesday, June 10, 2009

When Kings Die

This week I have been confronted with my own vulnerability. Watching my eight-year-old son enter into the realm of tackle football has softened my heart to the harsh realities of our competitive culture.

A little background might be in order: My son has always excelled in football, flag-football, that is. He usually scores most of the points on his team. Twice they have placed him in the quarterback position. He catches well and more often than not he's the fastest kid on the team. He dreams of playing some football, at least at the high school level. I believe he is capable, if his will remains strong. (Yes, I know, everything I've said thus far does not come from an objective observer; but bear with me until I make my point.) You also need to know that this is his dream, not mine, in case you're wondering. I'm not that fond of the football mentality. But I dream with my children; I journey with them in their aspirations.

That aside, he strapped on the pads for three days of assessment to be placed on a team and in a position. He did not perform to his capacity. Thus, he has been assigned as a bottom dweller, and, I assume, a soon-to-be bench warmer. The tragedy of this entire experience is that there was no teaching, no instruction for those who have never played with pads. Sink or swim, sorry so sad was the basic approach. My son doesn't see what's happening, so he's okay. But the father, yours truly, aches. I find myself wondering, is this how it works? Is that what makes or breaks some people--a few days? You have a good night, you're noticed, you're placed in the quarterback position, someone works with you and believes in you, and your path is set for you. Others who lack the right father or the right opportunity or the right connections are left behind? This seems to be the harsh reality of our competitive world.

It has been good for me to remember this. Because as I said last week, when the kings of our lives die, then we can see the King. Remember Isaiah 6.1? "In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord . . ." Isaiah, faced with his own vulnerability--the loss of a good king, sees the King. There is a connection. When our dreams and the dreams of our children are dashed to pieces, then and perhaps only then, are our hearts finally open to see glory of God.

Yes, from time to time, we need to be reminded that we're pursuing stuff that was never intended to bear the full weight of our confidence. We keep thinking that a new relationship, a new car, the fulfillment of a desire will finally bring lasting rest and satisfaction to our weary souls. What we often miss is that these things, though often good, are as fragile as our mortal life. Here today, gone tomorrow.

So I pray this lesson is not lost on us. Faced with our fragile existence, may we be open to the King of glory--the one upon whom we must depend. He is the one designed to bear the weight of our confidence. Nothing else is secure.

Peace!

1 comment:

SDavis said...

Keep the dream alive, in your son, by stoking the fire to be a mighty man of valor for The Lord of Hosts. Like King David, 2 Sa 22:1 through the whole chapter 2 Sa 22:51. The strength of a young mans character and confidence to act boldly securing the high ground and achieving miracles that the Lord wants him to participate in are acquired by training in the "basics" of warfare. Training in and being a student of and "practicing every day" with the weapons of God's arsenal of his warfare. That is how we, as God's children, can be achievers and excell in the high calling of being His Peacemakers. I pray that your son will see with his heart, mind, and soul, the vision of God's desire for his life in every aspect of his daily walk and "run" from his youth through adulthood. For sure, his earthly dad (and mom) are paragon parents!

Bless Your Whole Family Bunches!