Let’s Not Get Physical
I was not a big fan of physical education in school. I didn’t enjoy getting hot and sweaty and I was not good at sports. If a ball headed my way, my hands instinctively shielded my face. I don’t think I ever caught any sort of ball in my entire career as a student. I used to beg my mother to write a note to excuse me from PE. She always said, “If you’re too sick to go to PE, you’re too sick to go to school”. Most children would jump at that opportunity. Not me. I loved school and my mother knew it.
Besides my general aversion to physical education, there were two things I especially hated; the games Red Rover and Tug-o-war.
The Dreaded Games Of Elementary P.E.
I’m in my early sixties, yet I still can visualize the game of Red Rover in the second grade. We stood in two lines, hand in hand, and called someone from the other line to “come over”. If they couldn’t break through the line, that side got to keep them, but if they broke through the line, they got to take someone back to their side.
There was this one kid named Jay (ironically, my son’s name), and the girls dreaded him being called over. In my memory, he always wore blue jeans, a western shirt, and a big ole belt buckle he probably won in some junior rodeo. When he got called over, the two little girls he targeted unclasped their hands so they wouldn’t have to feel the pain of the gigantic belt buckle. Then they had to go back to the other side with Rodeo Jay.
Tug-o-war wasn’t any better. Two teams lined up on opposite sides of a rope. The biggest, strongest kids anchored each side with the rest in the middle. Each side pulled with all their might until the handkerchief in the middle crossed a line. With the last surge, all the kids in the middle ended up in a heap with rope-burned hands. The anchors, being bigger and stronger, came through the event unscathed.
I’ve been thinking a lot about that.
Real Life Tug-Of-War
Sometimes life seems like a game of tug-of-war. There are so many divisions in our world today. They could be political, religious, cultural, or something as simple as college football. There are infinite instances with one side pitted against the other. Like that game of tug-o-war, the biggest, strongest, and even loudest are at either end, either extreme. The two sides tug and pull back and forth until one side claims victory.
The problem is that most of the people; the ones holding onto the middle of the rope, the ones who are not at either extreme, end up in a sore and battered heap. They bear the brunt of the game.
Most of my friends and acquaintances are what I would call middle people. They aren’t loud or extreme. Most of them Republican or Democrat, black or white, gay or straight, Gator or Seminole simply want to live their lives peaceably. They want to worship, work, and enjoy life. They want to talk to each other and, if necessary, agree to disagree.
It’s not that we shouldn’t have opinions or convictions. We should believe strongly about things important to us. In Revelation 3:16, God warns about being lukewarm and it’s pretty sobering. I’m talking about feeling passionate about something without being hateful about it. Having opinions without bulldozing over people who may not share those opinions. Like not being a big, loud playground bully gloating at the middle people left in a heap after tug-of-war.
Please play nice.
I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way.
1 Timothy 2:1
Kim Wilbanks 