HUT!HUT!

The men children and I have started a semi-nightly ritual of playing a game of football each night. MC 1 has an Aggie helmet and uniform he suits up in. MC 2 has nothing. We play catch, we tackle and tickle, we punt and kick and work on diving catches. MC 2 (my goodness I accidentally typed MC 3 -prophetic? HH hopes not!) gets so excited when we go out to play. He desperately wants to be a part of the game. He coaches us on our three-point stance. He pleads for us to give him the ball and then does his best hut hut.
HOWEVER,
when he sees MC 1 or myself running toward him to tackle him, he throws the ball away and falls down in a fetal position on the ground screaming NO! NO!
I really don't know why he does this other than the obvious -he doesn't want to get hit (For the record we don't hit. We gently pull to the ground). He has no problems jumping on one of us, but no contact sport for this little stinker.
Go with me now. Remember this is my blog so I am gonna talk about what applies to me, and hope it makes sense. There are things in life I want to do and be a part of. I bet you do to. Whether it is working in ministry, or a job you think you are called to and would love, or going back to school, or being a stay-at-home mom, or all of that, I want to play in the game. Things where I desperately plead with God to throw me the ball - let me get involved. I am excited and nervous and ready to play all at the same time, just like MC 2.
The Lord graciously throws me the ball, I take off running, and then the potential for some contact shows up. The enemy tries to tackle me. More times than I would like to count, and more recent that I want to admit, I have also done like MC 2. I have chunked the ball as far from me as possible, curled up in a fetal position and cried NO!NO!
I want to play the game, I just don't want to get hit. Now granted I don't think many people want to get hit. I know I don't, but the risk and reality of it comes with the territory. If I am going to play the game, I am going to be under the threat of getting hit often, and will get hit a few times. It's not like I am not equipped to get hit, I have, after all, a very powerful armor and a sword to defend myself. Honestly, though, the mere thought of taking a hit can cause me to chunk what God has placed in my hands. Just the thought.
I don't want to be like that. I want to be a "grid iron" warrior. I want to take on the opponent. Take the hits as they come. Get up and do it again. I don't want to curl up in the fetal position anymore. As scared as I am, and that is pretty scared for some of this, I want tuck the ball Christ has given me and run for the end zone! Some things may be a sprint and a touchdown. Some may be a war on the line, inch by inch, yard by yard. Some will be a three and out, because God just wanted to see if I had the courage to play the game.
See, I, we, have to play in the game. That is the only way we will see victory. You don't win if you don't play. Lying in a fetal position crying NO! NO! brings no glory to Christ Jesus. Makes me no stronger, just paralyzed with fear. Like a player on the field who does not block or run or move period. I want to suit up, get the play call from the sidelines, and PLAY BALL! I want to see the following:

We will shout for joy when you are victorious and will lift up banners of in the name of our God.

(portion of Psalm 20:5 NIV)

I want to see the same for you. If you have been lying in the fetal position, it is time to get up. Time to dust off the dirt, re-adjust that mouth guard, get the next play, grab that ball and run. You have an entire crowd of encouragers. A entire stadium of witnesses waiting to raise banners in the name of our God. Today hit those knees in your three-point stance and get ready.
The snap is coming and the hand-off is to you.
HUT! HUT!