high school

I never cared for Physical Education classes when I was in High School. I loved to play baseball and basketball, but I was not what you would consider athletic by any stretch of the imagination. I think because P.E. wasn’t “fun” to me. We were constantly running, jumping, or exercising of some type. I really thought it was a waste of my time. I spent most of my time during those classes day dreaming about other things and wishing I was somewhere else at the time. Perhaps if I had been a star High School Football or Basketball Player things might have been different, but there was never any danger of that happening so it was agony for me each day of P.E. class.

I remember one particular class we were scheduled to be visited by a “special exercise guest.” You just can’t get much more exciting than that. I just knew that we were finally going to do something fun or meet some famous athlete. We made our way from the P.E. Locker room and arrived out on the ball field only to be greeted by a local ROTC Drill Sergeant standing in front of a wooden wall with a rope hanging from the top. You’ve seen them in movies involving soldiers and their training. The goal is to run towards the wall; grab the rope; and pull yourself and climb up the wall and over. My excitement turned to horror. I knew my turn was coming and I would have to attempt the wall but, at that moment, I would have rather gone to the Dentist. I knew I couldn’t climb that wall. I could barely do pull-ups on the high bar, much less climb a wall while holding a rope. Sure enough, my turn came. I ran. I pulled. I climbed. I fell. Just as predicted.

I tried and tried over and over and just couldn’t make it. After about 5 or 6 attempts, our guest Drill Sergeant pulled me aside and told me he had faith I could make it. He told me that he was going to climb from the back of the wall, reach over the wall and be in position to grab my hand as I approached the wall. Instead of using the rope, I was to jump and grab his hand and let him basically pull me up the wall.

After a few deep breaths, I ran as fast as I could toward the wall, jumped up toward the Sargent’s hand and somehow managed to almost reach the top of the wall. Instead of grabbing his arm, I took hold of the rope, reached the remaining short distance to the top of the wall, threw my leg over the top, and landed on the other side—–just like I was supposed to do. I don’t know how I did it, but there was something about just knowing that the Sergeant was there for support that increased my confidence to the point that I ended up not needing any assistance afterall. I realized that his mere presence and encouragement was enough to make me successful.

What a wonderful Christian lesson I learned that day. Even though I may not physically see God, I know that HE is part of my life. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that HE is there to reach out His arms to me for support. I know that HE is there to wrap His loving arms around me when I need it most. I know that HE is there to encourage me and help me overcome the barriers in my life. Whatever barriers I have faced in life, I’ve learned that God is there to help me climb the wall and conquer the barrier. I’m never climbing alone.

Are you facing walls and barriers in your own life? If so, I would encourage you to approach those barriers with confidence and strength and remember that God is already there waiting for you during the journey and at the finish line with open arms.

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This trip to my grandmother’s small, middle Georgia Town was supposed to be highlighted by something special this time. At this particular time, my grandmother was the Mayor of the small town, which is another story in and of itself. She had invited my parents and all of us to make a visit on this particular day because the Town was going to have a special Founder’s Day Parade. We were told it was going to be a spectacular event with Marching Bands from the local High School; Fire Trucks and Police Cars from the area; winners of local beauty pageants; and of course the mandatory politicians of which my grandmother, the Mayor, was front and center.

When it was time for the parade, we lined the busy streets of the town anxiously awaiting the parade. Afterall, this was a town of less than 400 people so we wanted to get there early to be able to get a good viewing place on the street. I think I had seen more people at the buildings where I worked in Atlanta than were in the town that day, but it was interesting nonetheless.

After a few moments, you could hear the start of the parade with the sirens blasting from the one Fire Truck and one police car that protected the town. Then came the local High School Marching band which had obviously purchased new uniforms. They actually played terribly but that didn’t seem to matter. Then, of course, came all the politicians led by my grandmother, all doing the proverbial waves to the crowds. After what seemed only 10 or 15 minutes the parade was over.

What impressed me at the time was not the skill of the musicians in the band, or the fact the police and fire truck were not the latest models. It wasn’t that the politicians and others in the parade waved to the crowds any better than anyone else I had ever seen in parades. There was something different with the group. I think it was the pride and confidence of who they were that more than made up for what they lacked in resources. They didn’t care one little bit that I thought they were less than spectacular. They didn’t have the money of big city budgets. They didn’t have the latest equipment. They didn’t have the best of anything; in fact, you could argue that they probably had the worst of everything. Yet, that didn’t seem to matter. They were making the best impression they could (and a strong impression) despite what we would view as limitations.

I’ve used this lesson often in my Christian life. There have been times that I wouldn’t witness to someone because I didn’t think I knew enough about the bible. There were times I wouldn’t stand up for my Christian faith because I didn’t think I was a “polished” enough Christian to make the impression I wanted to make. There have been times in which I was ashamed to admit I was a Christian because my clothes were not the best and I was ashamed of what people may have thought.

As Christians, we have all that we need to make a powerful witness to others. What we have comes from our relationship with Christ and how we exhibit that relationship to others. It doesn’t come from what we wear; where we live; or that we don’t have the latest and greatest Christian witnessing tools that are available. Those in the World that are not Christian want to see Christians that are real.

Those that were in my grandmothers Founders Day parade were real. That’s what made the impression on me and that is what others will see in your life, it you will just allow that to happen.

Walls in Our Lives Don’t Have To Be Barriers

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A Parade of Champions

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