Reaching for Greatness
When we were living in Bolivia a few years back, there was a bit of a hot topic in the papers concerning one of Bolivia's top Olympic athletes.
Geovana Irusta, a racewalker, was frustrated by the way she thought her country treated her in her quest for a medal. Bolivia has yet to win a gold, silver or bronze in an Olympic competition. This woman believed that she would have a better chance with some more support. She saw other athletes, like the US Olympians, coached, with training centers built for them and running outfits designed to minimize wind drag. She wanted to be her best, but felt held back by the limitations of trying to achieve greatness on her own. Eventually, she went to train in the neighboring country of Argentina.
I was thinking about Geovana the other day.
You see, in this post-Christian society that we live in, a lot of my friends and acquaintances no longer participate in church.
("Wait--what does that have to do with the Olympics?" Stay with me. . . )
Many of these people who have left have done that as a way to push back against the rules and pressure of organized religion, or to show their doubt in God and the Bible. They want no part of the imperfect church as they see it.
Yet, in their hearts, there is still a pull towards something greater than themselves. The world around us whispers and screams of something bigger, spiritual, supernatural. Evidence abounds for something beyond what we see. Searching for the inner calm, happiness and kindness found in spirituality, while avoiding the rules of religiosity, seems like it would make sense. Zen and yoga are practiced and perfected to achieve something that originates and finishes with one's self, but feels like peace with God.
Yet, there is a piece missing in the peace. A lack somewhere.
You know what it is?
It's that Olympic Coach. It's a personal relationship with Someone who knows what we need more than we know it. It's wrapped up in an awareness both of our weakness and of His greatness.
Do you remember the original Karate Kid movie? Remember how Mr. Miyagi agreed to teach Daniel LaRusso to fight, but then put him to work washing and waxing his cars and sanding and painting the woodwork in his yard? Remember that moment where Daniel snapped?
"You're supposed to teach and I'm supposed to learn!" He fires off that he's not learning anything, that he's just a slave to Mr. Miyagi.
Mr. Miyagi says, in broken English, "Not everything is as seem." He proceeds to show him that all that bossing around, all that pain and hard work, all those strict and seemingly crazy rules were part of training that would put him exactly where he wanted so desperately to be. He didn't know how to get there on his own, but a karate master knew.
In my own life, there have been times that I haven't fully understood the plan of God. Sometimes, it is so hard to see the end when all we see are the means.Sometimes, we think God's rules don't seem right or fair. But He's the Master, and He knows what's best for our training to develop into everything that we are meant to be. To get every bit of joy, love, peace, bravery and freedom that we are meant to have,
But we have to do it his way or we won't get there.
He's the coach.
I have a lot of favorite Olympic moments. I was awed by the graceful figure skater Midori Ito and moved by the story of speed skater Dan Jansen. I was joyfully surprised when Kerri Strug landed her vault on an injured ankle and shocked when Michael Phelps swam to medals in Bejing. I love watching the runners, and cheered for Flo-Jo, then Michael Johnson, then Usain Bolt. This year, I was happy for English Gardner after she qualified for Rio.
But the woman who probably epitomizes the Olympics best in my mind is Mary Lou Retton.
Mary Lou chose a famous coach, famous for turning athletes into winners and also famous for being so tough. The video at the end of this blog post shows some of Mary Lou's story and why she chose to train with the mighty and controversial Bela.
She wanted to win. She wanted to be better than she was.
Mary Lou and the Bolivian racewalker both knew that they needed someone to help them achieve their best. Not someone to coddle them and make them happy. Record-breakers need a coach. Geovana Irusta had all the freedom she wanted to sleep in, take days off, wear what she wanted, train how she wanted, and racewalk in whatever stances she wanted. But she wanted to be a winner. She wanted someone to call her out when she was lazy, or when her clothes were causing wind drag, or when her eating habits weren't gaining her the energy she needed to cut off a couple extra seconds.She wanted someone to tell her where she was failing, so she could improve.
That's what I need, too. I want someone to call me out when I'm messing up. Like it or not, that is one great thing about being in an awesome church community. I'm not talking about a church that cuts you down and makes you feel discouraged, unloved, or unwanted. I'm talking about a church that tells you honestly where you need to grow. A church that helps you become your best.
It doesn't mean I don't have merit as I am. I do and so do you. Those two women I mentioned are both great athletes on their own. But there is a difference between being decent and being your absolute best. And when we are completely in step with the God Who created us, we get to be truly--not just temporarily--happy and free. Even the struggles are just steps in the journey, because our eyes are on our prize.
This week, keep your eyes on Jesus. . . or as Mr. Miyagi might say it, "Look eye! Always look eye!" ;)
Have a great week.
(Don't forget to watch this! It's a good one!):
Geovana Irusta, a racewalker, was frustrated by the way she thought her country treated her in her quest for a medal. Bolivia has yet to win a gold, silver or bronze in an Olympic competition. This woman believed that she would have a better chance with some more support. She saw other athletes, like the US Olympians, coached, with training centers built for them and running outfits designed to minimize wind drag. She wanted to be her best, but felt held back by the limitations of trying to achieve greatness on her own. Eventually, she went to train in the neighboring country of Argentina.
You see, in this post-Christian society that we live in, a lot of my friends and acquaintances no longer participate in church.
("Wait--what does that have to do with the Olympics?" Stay with me. . . )
Many of these people who have left have done that as a way to push back against the rules and pressure of organized religion, or to show their doubt in God and the Bible. They want no part of the imperfect church as they see it.
Yet, in their hearts, there is still a pull towards something greater than themselves. The world around us whispers and screams of something bigger, spiritual, supernatural. Evidence abounds for something beyond what we see. Searching for the inner calm, happiness and kindness found in spirituality, while avoiding the rules of religiosity, seems like it would make sense. Zen and yoga are practiced and perfected to achieve something that originates and finishes with one's self, but feels like peace with God.
Yet, there is a piece missing in the peace. A lack somewhere.
You know what it is?
It's that Olympic Coach. It's a personal relationship with Someone who knows what we need more than we know it. It's wrapped up in an awareness both of our weakness and of His greatness.
Do you remember the original Karate Kid movie? Remember how Mr. Miyagi agreed to teach Daniel LaRusso to fight, but then put him to work washing and waxing his cars and sanding and painting the woodwork in his yard? Remember that moment where Daniel snapped?
"You're supposed to teach and I'm supposed to learn!" He fires off that he's not learning anything, that he's just a slave to Mr. Miyagi.
Mr. Miyagi says, in broken English, "Not everything is as seem." He proceeds to show him that all that bossing around, all that pain and hard work, all those strict and seemingly crazy rules were part of training that would put him exactly where he wanted so desperately to be. He didn't know how to get there on his own, but a karate master knew.In my own life, there have been times that I haven't fully understood the plan of God. Sometimes, it is so hard to see the end when all we see are the means.Sometimes, we think God's rules don't seem right or fair. But He's the Master, and He knows what's best for our training to develop into everything that we are meant to be. To get every bit of joy, love, peace, bravery and freedom that we are meant to have,
But we have to do it his way or we won't get there.
He's the coach.
But the woman who probably epitomizes the Olympics best in my mind is Mary Lou Retton.
She wanted to win. She wanted to be better than she was.
Mary Lou and the Bolivian racewalker both knew that they needed someone to help them achieve their best. Not someone to coddle them and make them happy. Record-breakers need a coach. Geovana Irusta had all the freedom she wanted to sleep in, take days off, wear what she wanted, train how she wanted, and racewalk in whatever stances she wanted. But she wanted to be a winner. She wanted someone to call her out when she was lazy, or when her clothes were causing wind drag, or when her eating habits weren't gaining her the energy she needed to cut off a couple extra seconds.She wanted someone to tell her where she was failing, so she could improve.
That's what I need, too. I want someone to call me out when I'm messing up. Like it or not, that is one great thing about being in an awesome church community. I'm not talking about a church that cuts you down and makes you feel discouraged, unloved, or unwanted. I'm talking about a church that tells you honestly where you need to grow. A church that helps you become your best.
It doesn't mean I don't have merit as I am. I do and so do you. Those two women I mentioned are both great athletes on their own. But there is a difference between being decent and being your absolute best. And when we are completely in step with the God Who created us, we get to be truly--not just temporarily--happy and free. Even the struggles are just steps in the journey, because our eyes are on our prize.
This week, keep your eyes on Jesus. . . or as Mr. Miyagi might say it, "Look eye! Always look eye!" ;)
Have a great week.
(Don't forget to watch this! It's a good one!):
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