True Grit

“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.” (1 Corinthians 9:24)

(I tend to allude to cultural phenomena—especially films—that I have never experienced firsthand. The title of this post is no different...)

Easy breaths, blink back sweat, kick out legs—left, right, left—in smooth, loping strides. Mile after straightforward mile, until ten or twelve have trotted underfoot and I’ve had my day in the park.

I recently was forced to undertake the uncomfortable task of describing my special gifts for an application. Coordination and what boils down to sheer endurance are what I’ve been given, along with some proficiency in math and writing. But there certain gifts—like speaking other languages and playing worship music, as the question so helpfully suggested—that are more obviously contributable to furthering God’s kingdom. Since my skills in piano and Spanish are something less than fluent, my struggle has been about what to do with the gifts I do have. What prize was I after? If I do not literally run a race toward Jesus, for what purpose was I beating my body (c.f. 1 Corinthians 9:27)? The question of worth once again raised its ugly head.

Then I found out I would be co-teaching Phys. Ed. for the spring break church camp in Miami.

 

 “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” (Hebrews 12:1)

And I found out about the spiritual endurance patience required and that playing with 84 kidlings for six hours a day entailed all the physical grit I could muster, and indeed, sometimes more than I could. Furthermore, “Duck-Duck-Goose” became for me almost absurdly emotional when kindergarteners Kaila and Lisa unexpectedly and perfectly reenacted a game of “Poul-Poul-Pijon” from Haiti two months prior by claiming my lap for as much of the game as I was duck/chicken and not goose/pigeon.

 

As one of my colleagues so wisely concluded, it is entirely possible the whole point and purpose of us having the penchant for athleticism was fulfilled that week in Little Haiti. Oddly satisfied with that explanation after a week of cursing my gift and feeling my usefulness under attack, I realized I’d gotten another glimpse of “fixing my eyes on Jesus” (Hebrews 12:2) by leaving opportunities to use the gifts He gave me up to Him. For that moment, my prize was peace.

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” (2 Timothy 4:7)

Miss K, Mr. G, Sasha, Patricia, Samantha, and Geraldine