It all started with a direct message from an area youth pastor. I’d only talked with him a couple of times but really liked him. He’d ask if he and some other student workers could come play basketball in our gym sometime.
I said under one condition. They let me play and not laugh to my face. Behind my back was okay.
So this morning starting at 8.30ish, 10 guys who all had a connection to ministry somehow in various settings in the city, showed up to play basketball.
I was the oldest guy on the court. And quite possibly the slowest. The speed part honestly hasn’t changed all that much.
What a wake-up call. Especially after the first 5 minutes. Remember those days of spending hours in the gym playing basketball? Full-court? I made it two games to 11. Barely. My lungs reminded me that we haven’t really gotten any exercise in over a year. My shot looked great until the ball reached the rim or close to the rim. I’m going to be very sore tonight, never mind what I’ll feel like tomorrow.
But…there was a lot of laughter, a few falls, a skinned knee, a couple of airballs and some nice bank shots that I’m confident weren’t supposed to be bank shots but went in anyway. And I think God was pleased.
Why? Because I caught myself praying for these guys by name and by ministry as they were leaving the gym. We made plans for this to be an every Thursday morning thing. It will be good. Eventually I will get in shape…a different shape than what I am in right now. And I know I’ll pray more for these guys that I have in the past.
That’s always good.