PLAY TO WIN

Erik has been watching the World Cup. We aren’t typically sports people so having the TV turned to a match several days in a row feels weird. Almost like someone else has taken over our living room. But no, it’s Erik, the man who has been by my side for almost 19 years now. I’m just seeing a different side of him. A side that has been hidden from me. 

“I don’t remember you being this into the World Cup before,” I cautiously said to him last week. I was worried that I had somehow blanked out on large swaths of our life – that I hadn’t been fully paying attention. 

“This is the first time that the timing lines up for me to watch it,” he said. “I’ve always liked it.”

He then went through the years the World Cup has been held since we met and explained that every other time it has been held, he’d been crazy busy with work and school and life demands, or it had been held in cities where the time zones just didn’t match up to where we were living. 

Ok, that explains it. 

As much as he’s into it, I still don’t have a lot of interest, so on Monday, I took my book outside while Erik turned on the US vs. Belgium match.

I was happily reading in the evening sun, when I got a text from him about the how Team USA was playing. 

“They’re not hungry to win, they’re afraid to lose,” he’s messaged. 

As I stared down at my phone, the words stopped being about a soccer team and got personal. Maybe a little too personal. 

“I think I probably fall into the afraid to lose camp most of the time,” I texted him back.

“That might be worth exploring,” he wrote back. 

Well, when God gives you a glimpse of your heart like that, you can either ignore it or follow it. I decided to follow it, and at the end of the road was a truth that’s as ugly to face as Team USA’s inevitable loss. 

Here it is: I let fear dictate more of my life than faith. 

Ouch. 

It’s not that I never take risks. I do, but I tend to take “safe” risks. Ones that are calculated. I usually have a backup plan…or three. 

But that’s not living in faith, is it? That’s not living in the fullness of believing that God really has me, no matter what. 

Maybe you haven’t, either. 

If you have a relationship with Jesus, your salvation isn’t at stake here. That’s secure. But I think your enjoyment of life is. 

At least that’s what I see in my own life. I’ve tended to hold back on some of the things I really want to do because I’m afraid I’ll fall flat on my face. I’m afraid I’ll lose. 

The Bible tells us the game has already been decided. God wins, and when we’re on His side, we win, too. Nothing can change that. So why am I living not to lose, if I’m guaranteed to win? 

Can I be brave enough to change? 

Can I be brave enough to step out in faith? 

Can you? 

TANGLED

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There he was. Or maybe he was a she. Either way, I saw the grey little dove standing on the sidewalk as I walked to my car. He was a little rumpled. His feathers weren’t lying flat, but that’s not what caught my eye. What I noticed was a thin, translucent piece of fishing line.

It moved every time the bird did.

I stopped. I looked again. His leg was tangled in fishing line. I slowly tried to move towards him but with every inch I moved, he moved away.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” I said quietly. “I want to help.”

Apparently I don’t speak bird because he continued to waddle quickly away. I sighed and turned to open the car door and climb in. But as I did, I couldn’t help but think: How often do I do that? How often do you? How often do we run away when someone wants to help untangle us from the mess we’re in?

There’s no shortage of fishing line in our lives. Heartbreak. Sin. Selfishness. Betrayal. Pride. Addiction. It can be so easy to get tangled that often we don’t even realize we are. We drag around extra weight, letting it impact our lives and keep us from fully living.

Why? Because we’re afraid.

We’re afraid that getting free will hurt more than being tangled.

We’re afraid that if people get close enough to see what’s weighing us down, they’ll see our flaws. They’ll see all of us. How many of us stay tangled by fear?

How many times have you run from someone who was trying to help? How many times have you turned away from God because you thought if you kept a big enough distance he couldn’t really see you?

How often have I?

What have we lost in the process? What has our running cost us?

The dove was created to fly, but with fishing line tangled around his leg, he could no longer do what he was created to do. Have you been running? Have you been drinking wine every night just to numb the pain? Have you been pushing away people who want to go deeper because you’re afraid of what they’ll discover? Or have you been putting on a slick coat of lipstick and a smile, trying to look like everything is ok when deep down your heart is broken?

What would happen if you took a risk? What if you stopped running and let someone help you get untangled?