Lost in the Lights

It’s the third round of the state football playoffs. The home team is down by a touchdown. The ball is on the home twenty yard-line. The fourth quarter is ticking down toward its close. The wolf of defeat snarls at the door. A call goes out for a hero to save the day.

But hang on…here’s the back-story.

The team had suffered through a recent history of losing seasons. There had been three different coaches during the four varsity years of the current seniors. This year should be more of the same.

But, this was a special group of kids. The whole school and the whole town believed in them. Most had started on the varsity since the tenth grade. The coach who had left after their ninth grade year to coach at a college almost stayed, because next year’s tenth grade was supposed to be so good.

This year had started out predictably. In the first game of the season, tonight’s home team had seen a 21-zip half-time lead slowly evaporate to wind up losing 28-21. Then there was a second loss to a larger school (for some reason, they often played larger schools). Here we go again….

But, after that inauspicious beginning, the planets had aligned. There had been nine straight victories, an area championship, and now the third round of the playoffs. Notch this one and two more – and you’re state champs, something this school had lived for since these kid’s grandpas had played on the same field fifty years ago. This would be the first. And the town of two thousand residents would go wildly insane for weeks. The President of the United States establishing a summer palace here would be nothing compared to winning the state in football. Just get out of the way, there’d be a riot.

Now, back to the fourth quarter. It’s put up or shut up time. Not that these kids ever talked trash to their opponent, I’m not sure they even knew what that term meant. They just showed up and went about their business.

Time to get down to business now.

The coach signaled in a pass. The home team had the best running back in the state. His strong legs and two thousand plus rushing yards had been crucial in getting them to where they were tonight. The player who could tackle him one-on-one, hadn’t been born yet. But on this play, he would be the decoy. The quarterback would fake the ball to him and then drop straight back before heaving the ball downfield. His pass was to be to the wide receiver, running all out toward the other team’s goal, straight down the sideline.

After his fake to the tailback, the quarterback retreated to a spot seven yards behind the scrimmage line. The opposing team’s defensive line began to break through the home team’s blocks. They came at him like wild men smelling a kill. But he stood there erect and unprotected, with the ball cocked at his shoulder, like he had done scores of times before. Just before their headgears impacted his ribcage, the receiver broke into the clear. The quarterback let’er fly.

He never saw what happened because he was now flat on his back covered with opposing lineman, some of whom outweighed him by a hundred pounds. The released football traveled in a beautiful arc with a perfect spiral for at least forty yards. The receiver looked up into the black night sky to focus on the approaching ball. The hopes and dreams of that rural Alabama town traveled with it.

When the receiver looked up, what he saw…was the bright stadium lights. Where was that ball that had his name and “hero” written all over it? As he put more space between himself and the defender, who was now badly trailing, his ultimate dream of glory was falling from the night sky toward his outstretched hands. But the fated ball had become hopelessly lost in the lights, and now the once-in-a-lifetime moment was about to be lost with it.

When the ball finished traversing its arc and fell to where he was running alone down that sideline, his hands never touched it. It hit the top of his shoulder pads. You could hear the “pop” it made from the contact all over the stadium. It bounced once into the air, and fell uncaught to the ground. Hard to catch what you can’t see.

There was a terrible groan of despair from the home stands. It was an omen. The players returned to their respective huddles. Another play was called and executed. By and by the game was completed. The home team lost. Their dreams of gridiron glory and high school football sainthood got lost in the lights.

There’s a little more to the back-story of what you’ve just read, but we won’t go there.

I’ve told this story because these events remind me of a Bible text. Here it is:

Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus (Philippians 3:13-14 NKJV).

Paul said, “…one thing I do.” He had focus. He let nothing get in between him and his goal of Christ. He let nothing distract him and cause him to lose sight of the goal.

The receiver in the story who lost the ball in the lights couldn’t help it. But you and I can help it. How many times do we allow things to get in our way and hinder us from a locked-in vision of Christ? How often do we lose Jesus in the lights of worldly enticements and distractions? When we allow Satan to blind us to Christianity by holding up the world before our eyes, we are willfully losing Christ – and losing the only “game” that matters in the process.

Look past the distractions that Satan is constantly trying to blind us with - and see Jesus. See Him in His creation. See Him clearly in His word. Believe Him. Obey Him. Let God make you more than a winner.

Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us (Romans 8:37 NKJV).