When I was in junior high, I discovered that the Lord had gifted me in running. The longer the distance, the better I seemed to handle it. I was clearly not a sprinter. Because this came so naturally, I had a tendency to disregard my ability. This was not in the days of perpetual training. Today's athletes seem to be in the weight room or on the court of their affection, endlessly.

The thing was, I wanted to play football. I wanted glory, and I wanted it in a sport that I thought was worthy. I went out for the football team. I embarrassed myself. It wasn't pretty. My friends who were knocking me around felt sorry for me. I even saw the pity in their eyes. Humiliating!

Fortunately, I decided to try running instead. Cross Country was next. This unknown ability began to surface as I began to invest. I began to win events with noone close to me. My coaches tried to spur me on. The high school team heard about my abilities, and came to some of my meets to "push" me.

This was not the attention I sought. I was a teenage boy, who wanted what most teenage boys desired. I wanted the girls to take notice. I wanted the cheerleaders to come and cheer for me. My sport was obscure, the crowds sparse. My parents were seldom at my meets due to schedule conflicts, etc. Plus, have you ever been to a Cross Country meet? Most of the battles are fought far away from the public eye.
The people in attendance can generally see the start and the finish. Determination and victory had to come from within.

BJ liked to swim. I remember the struggle I had going to watch and cheer him on. I have such a competitive spirit, that I wanted him to crush his competition. When my children were small, I confess I was one of those soccer dads who embarrassed my wife, children and everyone else, with obnoxious screaming. BJ did not crush his competitors. It was usually the other way around. He did not seem to mind. As he strove to improve, his small frame began to take form.

He stuck to it, because he enjoyed it, and had some raw natural ability. Most of the kids he was competing against, had been swimming since they were, well... smaller that Beej, and that was saying something. He improved, and even began to win some heats. His previously awkward junior high body was taking on a new look. I even gave him a new nickname... "peck boy" (his pectoral muscles were well defined by now). Calling him this, elicited many wrestling matches and red faces. The threat of calling him this in public brought about a quick retreat from whatever issue, situation or discussion I was trying to keep the upper hand in.

BJ's ability to "stick to it," superseded my own. He was not in it for the glory. He took advantage of his role on the club team, to share his faith in Christ. Something I never did. I learn many lessons from my children. Humbling!

BJ's diligence in his walk with Christ was incredible to me. He found determination where I had looked for popularity. He found victory in Christ, where I had been self-promoting.

Though we often act otherwise, we each have a natural proclivity to embrace our Savior. It is natural because He created us. Yes, we have free will, and we exercise it often. I stumble too frequently for my years. When you have been "walking" as long as I have, stumbling should not be near as close a friend as it is.

Despite his absence from us physically, he continues to lead by example through the choices he made, the knowledge he gained, and the secure footing that exemplified his walk. Determination and victory came from Jesus. He learned to practice.

dad