Monday, May 5, 2008

Life in my Bubble

I was sitting here mad and frustrated until God used this tiny prick called conviction to pop my bubble. (I know the bubble thing is kind of cliche around here, but I think it captures the heart of what I'm getting at pretty well.)

Round these here parts, football is pretty durn big. It's a Texas thing. Annual rivalries are pretty fierce. This year was going to be my first year to participate in an annual game and I've been looking forward to this for about exaggeration. Then I broke my leg. So for The Game, I was sidelined on crutches. I yelled, cheered, stood and followed the play the whole game, and got mad and frustrated when we lost a close game. I wasn't mad so much that we lost because we didn't execute when we should have; there are consequences for not practicing. But what really ticked me off is that the other team had promised that they would play dirty even as we said we wouldn't. In the days leading up to the game, they alternately trashed us and blamed us for being too intense - ruining the fun of the game. We didn't play perfect, but we did not intentionally rip shirts and grab throats in the name of flag football.

So I'm sitting here going, "God, I'm really not mad about the score; I'm mad about the injustice of them not playing right and bragging about it." I sat still for a minute, then the conviction muscled its way through my self-absorption and anger.


Yeah, they could have played a cleaner game and been better sports about the whole thing. Yeah, they messed up. But if I'm getting mad about the injustice of a single football game, my priorities and convictions are way out of whack.

Injustice? Slavery is injustice. Robbing the widowed and orphaned is injustice. The sex trade is injustice. Little kids forced to make firecrackers at the risk of getting blown up just so they can eat scraps is injustice. Abortion is injustice. Sharia law is injustice. Starvation of third world countries is injustice. Football? Not so much.

Sometimes I feel I'm drowning in my own shallowness.

God, transform my mind. Give me eyes to see and a heart to feel the things you do. Give me passion for the things that really matter.

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