I love to play sports. They have always been a part of my life. In fact, the only thing better than playing sports is talking about them, and every 30 something washed up athlete has a locker room full of stories about their past accomplishments on the court/playing field/etc. That reminds me, have I ever told you about the time I . . .
Anyway, I digress. We all are very proud of our sports stories, but we also know our limits. All of us have an audience in whose company our stories turn silent. We all know that there are certain people who have just accomplished more than we have, thus making our stories look like deuce high in a poker game . . . something that is better kept to yourself than played on the table. For instance, you would not want to share your rec league basketball stories with Michael Jordan or the first time you broke 100 on the golf course with Tiger Woods. Sure you can brag about those stories to your peers, but in the presence of greatness, your stories lose their luster.
I was thinking about this premise this week as I considered the passage of Scripture we are looking at together this weekend at Wildwood Community Church. Take a moment and look at 2 Timothy 1:5 and Acts 22:1-21 before Sunday (if you have a chance) and see what you think those verses have in common with the war stories of a washed up athlete. Hope to see you Sunday in either the 9:00 or 10:40 AM worship service!