Sweet Victory

Yay! It happened! The decorations are up and no one is dead and WE WON! Not that football matters at all. Really. The whole game, I sat there with my stomach in knots (well, until we put the nail in the coffin, anyway), wondering why I had knots in my stomach over a game played by a bunch of college kids. I told myself over and over again that it is just a game for crying out loud, yet I still really, really, really wanted Alabama to win. I promise I'm not one of these people who live or die by the most recent game of football. Once it's over, I move on (unless it's an Iron Bowl loss, and then I move on about 30 minutes later), reminding myself that it's just a game played by college kids and I have eternity to look forward to (where Alabama always wins - just kidding!). However, in the heat of the battle, I care. For some strange, completely illogical reason, I care so much that I can't eat and I scream when Trent runs for a TD and I scream when Aub - I mean, whoever the other team is that we happen to be playing does something desperate like score with their defense or special teams, since that's obviously their only hope.

I felt bad for feeling so passionate about a game centered around a pigskin ball involving boys barely old enough to grow facial hair and who obviously think dreadlocks are an acceptable hairstyle. But I do know that football is not my god. However, God made us to be passionate beings, so it should be no surprise that we feel excitement or nervousness or elation when we participate in earthly challenges or competitions. It's the way He's wired us. We just have to be sure that our ultimate expressions of passion are spent on the things that really matter. It's not necessarily bad to show some heart when it comes to football or Pictionary or our kids' soccer games, but our displays of emotion over these things should pale in comparison to the REAL THING.

Last year as I studied Revelation, I found myself getting truly excited about the ultimate competition one day at a little place known as Armageddon. Talk about a passionate, powerful victory! If we get excited when our team pounds a few extra touchdowns down the other team's throat, how should we feel when our King simply speaks and wipes out the most powerful enemy we'll ever know? Amazing stuff! So my prayer for myself is that I'll be a passionate person, full of enery and excitement and life, but that the ultimate source and recipient of my passion will be Jesus Christ.

So, here's to an awesome Iron Bowl victory, which will hopefully set us up to play for the national title (when my stomach will again be in knots for 3 1/2 hours). And here's to the final competition of good and evil, where my stomach should be just fine, because I know Who the winner's going to be. (I have a feeling there'll be a few butterflies in that ole tummy just the same.)