I first learned to love football as a child. I would sit on the couch, either in my dad's lap or close by, wearing a jersey at least 6 sizes too big, and every Saturday I would practice making O and U shapes with my hands, yelling "Boomer Sooner!" at the console TV set in our living room. I grew up watching Barry Switzer coach up guys like Troy Aikman and Keith Jackson and Brian Bosworth. My dad taught me the rules of the game. I learned how to armchair quarterback through our special Saturday sessions. And I learned that sometimes, no matter how many times you yell "run!" they just won't budge. And sometimes I taught him things like alternate swear words, and how to keep from throwing a shoe at the refs through the TV set. Valuable lessons were learned every Saturday, and I still think so fondly on those times.
But where I first learned to fully appreciate college football was in a small house in a small city in middle Georgia, many years later. After I graduated from high school, I moved to Georgia. It was here that I found a new love for the sport. Surrounded by University of Georgia fans, I soon found a different side to the game. Georgia, being a part of the Southeastern Conference, was a different style of football than the Big Eight style play of the 1980s. I became interested in the rough-and-rugged play in Georgia, and began watching teams like Alabama, Auburn, Tennessee, Ole Miss, LSU, and South Carolina. They played physical, aggressive ball. They were defense-heavy, light on passing, and ran with fury and fervor. No sir, these boys were not playing a little two-hand-touch yard ball. They were running, full speed, right at their opponent. And only the bone-cracking crunch of helmets and shoulder pads would stop them. They were tough, they were mean, they were strong. And deep down, they were still just boys being boys.
I quickly fell in love with SEC football. I was, at first, a fan of Tennessee, watching a young Peyton Manning take the field on Saturdays. He was quick and nimble, and he was accurate. But he was also unafraid - a quality that I now find very attractive in a QB. But Tennessee did not completely win my heart. I loved all SEC teams. They trained hard, they played hard, and they were hungry for victory.
I married an Ole Miss fan. No, I married a rabid Ole Miss fan. To the core. And I love him for it. We are a Rebel family. We bleed red and blue. We live and die for every Saturday, and we sweat for our team. We travel when we can, but we watch every week. The sacrifices we make for the love of our team are not that different from the sacrifices we make for our family - sacrifices of our time, money, effort, and energy... yes, we love our Rebels. And this season we have so much to love! Our Rebels, known for giving us a mediocre showing, and play up only for key games, are currently ranked #3 in both the Coaches and AP Polls (and yes, I actually do check on those every week). They are playing hard and tough, knocking out Top 10 opponents left and right. We have a lot to be proud of!
But I think what makes me feel most proud is the valuable spiritual, moral, ethical, and general life lessons SEC football (and the Rebels, specifically) continue to teach me.
First of all, football gives people hope. There are boys on that field who are experiencing success in their sport at a level they might never have dreamed of. They are gaining national attention and are being put in the spotlight for achievement beyond their wildest imagination. On top of that, they are getting a shot at a great education. That dream might have been beyond their reach, too, had it not been for an athletic scholarship and an opportunity. And I truly cannot think of a school within the SEC that I would not want for my boys to go to. Yes, even LSU, although the smell of corn dogs makes me sick.
SEC football is so full of tradition and pageantry. Nowhere else in college football, with maybe the exception of the Notre Dame gold helmets, do you find so many amazing traditions and fun customs as you do on any given Saturday in the SEC. Playing Arkansas this week? Roast a pig. Mississippi State is coming to town? Bring your earplugs because they bring cowbells. Playing in Death Valley at night? Bring security (I'm only half joking). Tailgating in The Grove? Oh my - it's so beautiful, I don't even know where to start! But expect to see lots of beautiful girls all dolled up in red and blue. Between the Hedges this week? It's gonna be fun! My son's first full sentence was "Go dawgs, sic 'em!" Our wedding vows ended with "Hotty Toddy" but I've also heard "Roll Tide" and "Go Gators" at the end of "I do," and of course these weddings didn't happen during the fall because that would interfere with the game schedule. Don't be afraid of the loud rooster crow if you're at Williams-Brice Stadium in South Carolina. And don't forget how to "anchor down" at Vandy. I love the traditions! I really do! They're so much fun. Even when you're the visiting team. When in Rome, right?
SEC players and fans learn about victory and defeat in a way that, perhaps, the rest of the world can't understand. This week you are #1, but there is never ever a guarantee of holding that spot week to week. SEC folk know that you have to play every down in every quarter in every game in every season as if it will be your last, because things change awfully quick in a fast, defensive, strong, physical conference like this one. #1 today, unranked tomorrow - it happens, my friends. And when you can win with grace, and lose with dignity, you live to play another week. Nothing is uglier than a team that makes terrible excuses for a loss, or a team that boasts to the point of obnoxiousness (I won't mention any names, but you know who you are). Especially when you know that any given Saturday can make you or break you. Case(s) in point: where is Tim Tebow now? Commenting on a game he won't be playing. Whatever became of JaMarcus Russell? Dropped by the Raiders. How about David Greene? Practice squad. Tim Couch? Danny Wuerffel? Remember Pat Sullivan? These guys were something special in the SEC, and it never really translated to NFL success. Their few glorious years playing college ball was about all they had in them. But some of those NFL busts have had other careers doing other things, and are respected for it because they learned the valuable lessons of winning and losing. Others, not so much.
At the end of the day, what I find most endearing about SEC football is that it really is a family affair. Yes, we get together at Thanksgiving and we are truly a house divided - we've got Alabama fans, Auburn fans, Ole Miss fans, Mississippi State fans, and a few Georgia fans all under one roof. There's trash talk and jawing. But at the end of it all, there's one thing that unites us: love of each other, and love of the game. We love to see our team succeed, but we also love to see our conference succeed. If the National Championship comes down to an SEC rival and a Big 10 powerhouse, we'll root for our most-hated SEC nemesis any day of the week, because we know that we have love for our conference above the hatred for our rival. We cheer for the ones who will represent the greatest conference in college football before we will succumb to the ridiculous notion that our in-state rival has out-ranked us again. We know that one game, one season, does not an SEC-powerhouse make, and that every season brings new hope.
Things are really shaking up in the SEC this season. And it's AWESOME. If you're not a fan yet, you probably just haven't really watched...
Monday, October 13, 2014
Friday, October 3, 2014
Cancer is the Devil
Another funeral this week. I'm running out of dresses appropriate for these kinds of events.
It's always so hard to see people hurting, mourning, and missing someone they love. And perhaps it's also a feeling of absolute helplessness when you approach a mourning widow or child and say, simply, "I'm so sorry for your loss." You know your words do little to end their suffering or ease their pain, but what else can you really do?
This funeral is different. Another of my husband's co-worker friends, but this time he is a victim of cancer at the young age of 42. And when I tell the widow and children that I'm sorry for their loss, I will be able to fully relate. I lost my mother to cancer nearly 6 years ago.
I've been thinking about cancer. I can't help but think about it. I know so many people who either have cancer, had cancer before, or are trying to find out if they have it. I know so many broken hearts because the reality of those dreaded words, "you have cancer," means a tough road ahead. A road that, quite frankly, may terminate before taking a turn back towards health and life. And when I think of cancer, the only thing that really makes sense is that the devil himself comes in the form of cancer.
Isn't that what cancer does? It looks for healthy cells to destroy. Cancer is non-discriminatory. It will take over any part of your body, regardless of your gender or race, your financial status, your ethnicity, your religion. Cancer prays on healthy cells and devours them, spreading rapidly from cell to cell, leaving destruction in it's wake. Think of a lion on the prowl in a National Geographic video. He lurks quietly behind the brush, waiting for an innocent gazelle to pass by. And before you can change the channel or look away, he's sunk his giant teeth into that gazelle's flesh and destroyed it. And just that fast the gazelle is gone, reduced to a few bones and scraps for the gnats and ants to feast on.
Cancer is a thief. It steals it's victim's future. It steals the joy and happiness of it's victims. It steals their hope. It causes them to believe that the future is gone, or at least fading. They begin to feel hopeless, helpless, and worthless. It not only kills their physical being, one cell at a time, but it kills their emotional life. Relationships begin to suffer, and families do their best to stay strong. But cancer has a way of finding a weakness, exploiting it, and increasing it. Stress levels rise as the cost of treatment increases. Savings accounts are left empty. Suffering takes on so many forms. It destroys families, and leaves behind painful memories of illness and disease. Cancer patients have a "look" - maybe it's the lack of hair, combined with the grayish skin color following chemo. Seeing my mom look so pale, so sick, made me think of something like a zombie apocalypse. Destruction. Devastation.
Cancer kills. That's just how it is. Sometimes people are fortunate in that they survive cancer. But even those that survive must endure surgeries, chemotherapy, radiation... sometimes the treatment feels worse than the disease. I watched my mom sick at her stomach, lose her hair, and grow weak to the point that she couldn't stand on her own two feet. At one point, she wished for death. The treatment was painful. It stole her appetite, which led to malnutrition. She was sick. She was weak and tired. And she hated to look in the mirror. Eventually the treatments proved to be ineffective. The cancer was spreading faster than the chemo could kill it. Cancer killed her, just like it did Matt's friend.
Satan is our adversary. And so is cancer. We can envision one as the other pretty easily. Just as cancer spreads rapidly within us, filling our bodies with distorted, unhealthy cells, and robbing us of our health and vitality, Satan can rapidly spread throughout our lives. He can replace the loving, healthy relationships, thoughts, and feelings, with negative visions and catastrophic choices. He can steal bright futures and replace them with paths of destruction. And he can do this without us even realizing it is happening, much like cancer. By the time we realize that our bodies have been ravaged by the constant division and replication of mutilated DNA, the prognosis can be bleak. And so it is with Satan - oh how he loves to see us head down roads full of heartache and grief and surrender ourselves to his power of death! So quickly he can destroy our lives, and take us to depths we never envisioned we would be, and we wake up with Stage 4 Sin.
We may not yet have the cure for cancer, though I pray it is coming soon. But thankfully, we do have the cure for the eventual outcome Satan brings. Our Heavenly Father offers us a cure that comes with no painful side effects, no risk of further disease or infection, and no clinical trial needed. He sent us Jesus. God is not in the life-taking business, but rather the life-giving business. He wants to see us healthy - physically, emotionally, relationally, spiritually. He wants us not just living, but thriving. He wants us building a lifetime of loving memories and happiness. What He wants for us is everything that cancer, and it's author, is not.
I think it is important to address that God is not the author of cancer. He does not cause that we should have cancer. He does not want us to have cancer. But cancer is the result of living in a fallen, broken, generally jacked-up world. And cancer does not care who it infects. It is an equal-opportunity destroyer, much like Satan. I do not mean to imply that sinners get cancer. If that logic were true, we would all have cancer. We will not all have cancer, but we will all have sin. And if we are not careful, that sin can lead us down a dangerous road. A road that Satan wants us to walk down. And because of that, I feel certain that Satan is the creator of cancer, and rejoices in the suffering it causes.
As we say good-bye to another cancer victim, I can't help but think that his struggle with cancer is such a parable for the human struggle with Satan. While we will all eventually meet the same fate, and that all must die in the flesh, I know that my soul has been "vaccinated" with the precious blood of Jesus.
It's always so hard to see people hurting, mourning, and missing someone they love. And perhaps it's also a feeling of absolute helplessness when you approach a mourning widow or child and say, simply, "I'm so sorry for your loss." You know your words do little to end their suffering or ease their pain, but what else can you really do?
This funeral is different. Another of my husband's co-worker friends, but this time he is a victim of cancer at the young age of 42. And when I tell the widow and children that I'm sorry for their loss, I will be able to fully relate. I lost my mother to cancer nearly 6 years ago.
I've been thinking about cancer. I can't help but think about it. I know so many people who either have cancer, had cancer before, or are trying to find out if they have it. I know so many broken hearts because the reality of those dreaded words, "you have cancer," means a tough road ahead. A road that, quite frankly, may terminate before taking a turn back towards health and life. And when I think of cancer, the only thing that really makes sense is that the devil himself comes in the form of cancer.
Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.
1 Peter 5:8
Isn't that what cancer does? It looks for healthy cells to destroy. Cancer is non-discriminatory. It will take over any part of your body, regardless of your gender or race, your financial status, your ethnicity, your religion. Cancer prays on healthy cells and devours them, spreading rapidly from cell to cell, leaving destruction in it's wake. Think of a lion on the prowl in a National Geographic video. He lurks quietly behind the brush, waiting for an innocent gazelle to pass by. And before you can change the channel or look away, he's sunk his giant teeth into that gazelle's flesh and destroyed it. And just that fast the gazelle is gone, reduced to a few bones and scraps for the gnats and ants to feast on.
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy
John 10:10
Cancer is a thief. It steals it's victim's future. It steals the joy and happiness of it's victims. It steals their hope. It causes them to believe that the future is gone, or at least fading. They begin to feel hopeless, helpless, and worthless. It not only kills their physical being, one cell at a time, but it kills their emotional life. Relationships begin to suffer, and families do their best to stay strong. But cancer has a way of finding a weakness, exploiting it, and increasing it. Stress levels rise as the cost of treatment increases. Savings accounts are left empty. Suffering takes on so many forms. It destroys families, and leaves behind painful memories of illness and disease. Cancer patients have a "look" - maybe it's the lack of hair, combined with the grayish skin color following chemo. Seeing my mom look so pale, so sick, made me think of something like a zombie apocalypse. Destruction. Devastation.
He was a murderer from the beginning...
John 8:44
...him that had the power of death, that is, the devil...
Hebrews 2:14
Cancer kills. That's just how it is. Sometimes people are fortunate in that they survive cancer. But even those that survive must endure surgeries, chemotherapy, radiation... sometimes the treatment feels worse than the disease. I watched my mom sick at her stomach, lose her hair, and grow weak to the point that she couldn't stand on her own two feet. At one point, she wished for death. The treatment was painful. It stole her appetite, which led to malnutrition. She was sick. She was weak and tired. And she hated to look in the mirror. Eventually the treatments proved to be ineffective. The cancer was spreading faster than the chemo could kill it. Cancer killed her, just like it did Matt's friend.
Satan is our adversary. And so is cancer. We can envision one as the other pretty easily. Just as cancer spreads rapidly within us, filling our bodies with distorted, unhealthy cells, and robbing us of our health and vitality, Satan can rapidly spread throughout our lives. He can replace the loving, healthy relationships, thoughts, and feelings, with negative visions and catastrophic choices. He can steal bright futures and replace them with paths of destruction. And he can do this without us even realizing it is happening, much like cancer. By the time we realize that our bodies have been ravaged by the constant division and replication of mutilated DNA, the prognosis can be bleak. And so it is with Satan - oh how he loves to see us head down roads full of heartache and grief and surrender ourselves to his power of death! So quickly he can destroy our lives, and take us to depths we never envisioned we would be, and we wake up with Stage 4 Sin.
We may not yet have the cure for cancer, though I pray it is coming soon. But thankfully, we do have the cure for the eventual outcome Satan brings. Our Heavenly Father offers us a cure that comes with no painful side effects, no risk of further disease or infection, and no clinical trial needed. He sent us Jesus. God is not in the life-taking business, but rather the life-giving business. He wants to see us healthy - physically, emotionally, relationally, spiritually. He wants us not just living, but thriving. He wants us building a lifetime of loving memories and happiness. What He wants for us is everything that cancer, and it's author, is not.
I think it is important to address that God is not the author of cancer. He does not cause that we should have cancer. He does not want us to have cancer. But cancer is the result of living in a fallen, broken, generally jacked-up world. And cancer does not care who it infects. It is an equal-opportunity destroyer, much like Satan. I do not mean to imply that sinners get cancer. If that logic were true, we would all have cancer. We will not all have cancer, but we will all have sin. And if we are not careful, that sin can lead us down a dangerous road. A road that Satan wants us to walk down. And because of that, I feel certain that Satan is the creator of cancer, and rejoices in the suffering it causes.
As we say good-bye to another cancer victim, I can't help but think that his struggle with cancer is such a parable for the human struggle with Satan. While we will all eventually meet the same fate, and that all must die in the flesh, I know that my soul has been "vaccinated" with the precious blood of Jesus.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)