"There is a time for everything"

That phrase is from Ecclesiastes 3:1. The second half of the verse says, "and a season for every activity under heaven." Right now, it seems like the only activity I have time for is teaching. Everything else takes a back seat, whether I want it to or not. However, there is one activity I am learning to enjoy now more than I ever did before: sports.

For those who know me, you must be thinking "well if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black, then I don't know what is!" I love sports: always have, always will. They were the foundation for my relationships with my father, brother, and other male friends. From there, grew a deeper appreciation for and fellowship with one another. However, my Achilles heal was how seriously I took that which I claimed to enjoy. My brother can tell you about many phone calls I made to him "from the edge." When my teams lost, I took it personally. I wanted nothing to do with anyone, because I needed time to be by myself. My love for sports morphed into a ugly worship of them because my identity was wrapped up in them instead of Christ (Romans 8:14-17). Thankfully, the Phillies won the World Series in 2008.

No you're thinking, "wait, how does that make sense?" The answer lies in that memorable October night sitting in my parents family room. I do remember the significant plays of the game, Harry's call of it on the radio, and the wild celebration afterwards. But the part I remembered most was my dad. I was filled with more joy seeing the huge smile spread across his face. I don't really know if the smile was because of the end of a long championship drought, but it didn't matter. Seeing the joy on his face, removed any care for what put it there.

Since then my attitude about sports has changed significantly. I still love to watch them all, but amongst friends and family (it adds the sheer enjoyment of fellowship to the excitement). I enjoy playing fantasy football (it helps me stay in touch with those who are not necessarily in the area). My family runs a suicide league over the course of the NFL season, which is loads of fun (we trash talk in love and laugh about it when we are able to get together). The fullest realization of this came last night as three of us watched one of the most exciting Phillies (and baseball for that matter) games I have ever seen. Clutch hitting and late-inning rallies never get old. But they're just another gift I have grown to take for granted when my focus should be on the Giver.