Benched

When Miss Virginia was younger, quite a number of years ago, she coached the girls’ basketball team at a local private school. Her rules were simple: Bring honor to the school, respect your teammates, your opponents, and your coach.

 Usually there wasn’t a lot of trouble. But the day came when one of the players, in a bad temper over a failed shot, said a four-letter word that fell harshly on Miss Virginia’s ears. The language was so foul, she could scarcely believe it was one of her girls who had said it.

 The rest of the team looked at her in shock. They knew this language didn’t fall under Miss Virginia’s code of conduct. What would she do?

 The coach’s own daughters, too young to be on the team, ran up to their mother. “Did you hear that, Mom? What are you going to do?” they asked, horrified excitement on their faces.

 “It will be taken care of,” Miss Virginia assured them. “You’ll just have to wait and see what happens.” 

Then she drew the young player aside. “You know the rules,” she said kindly. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to stay on the bench at the next game.” 

The next game? The team looked on in dismay. The young lady who had been benched was one of the starters, a rising star in her own right. And the next game was a tournament game, an opportunity for triumph and a trophy. What had their coach done?

Miss Virginia went home that evening, saddened by the events of the day. Had she made the right decision? It wasn’t long until the phone rang. On the other end was the benched player’s mother.

 “I’m a Christian,” she began.

 “Oh no,” Miss Virginia thought. “These calls are always worse when they have to start out by telling me they’re a Christian.”

 “I’m a Christian,” the woman said, her fury palpable over the phone line, “but I don’t know what you think you’re doing, benching my daughter for one word slipping out. This is the tournament game we’re talking about. My daughter is the star of the team! You’re going to sacrifice the tournament for one little word? You’re going to lose the whole thing if you won’t let her play!”

 The tirade went on and on. At last the woman paused. “I’m sorry,” Miss Virginia answered, “I’d love to let her play, but it’s more important to me that she learns to respect herself than that we win the tournament. I don’t coach to win the game, I coach to help these girls become the best version of themselves that they can be. I want them to grow, to become citizens worth respect, citizens we can trust to lead our governments. I can’t go back on my word, not if I want to lead by example, not if I want to help not only your daughter, but all the players, become the best version of themselves.”

 It may be that anger is also the mother of invention. The woman on the other end of the line surely invented a new lexicon of abuse, but she may as well have been speaking to a deaf woman. Miss Virginia was not to be moved. She had a long-range vision for the girls on her team. She loved them, and she wasn’t only looking at tomorrow or the next tournament. She was looking even farther into the future.

 Where do you find yourself today? Are you living your life with a long-range view, or with short term vision? All too often I find myself looking only at today, only at tomorrow. I prefer to dismiss where my actions will lead in the next year, the next five, the next ten.

 These actions can be small—where I spend my money, what snacks I choose to consume, how much time I waste reading the news, the words that I allow to fall, unheeded, from my tongue. The short-sightedness can lead me to think it’s OK if I skip my devotions, read that questionable book, repeat the gossip I’ve heard, or even harbor thoughts of judgement against another.

 This may sound like I’m advocating for perfection, but I assure you that is not the case. I’m advocating for you to join me in turning to our Heavenly Father and asking Him about the long-range plan. Is there something He wants me to change? Something He would have for me to give up? An area in which He would have me learn self-denial?

We’re used to easy living, coasting through our Christian lives, coming up with our own reasoning to sort out the things that we allow ourselves. Some of us fall into the bondage of trying to perfectly follow every aspect of Christian living we can fathom. In some cases, we fail to live in the freedom of the Spirit because we are trying so hard to do everything right.

 In most cases, I don’t believe that God works in big splashy ways. Neither does He want us to change everything at once. Most of all, our Father is looking for a willing heart that He can lead toward small actions which may grow into what the world around us would consider radical self-denial. We can’t get away from self-denial. It’s in everything we do—our choice to get out of bed in the morning, our decision to forego a second serving, the not-always-simple act of consistency in our child training, whether a parent at home or a teacher in a classroom.

 This self-denial isn’t radical to a Christian. Luke speaks of it in chapter 9, verse 23: “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.”

Neither is it a foreign thought to live with our eyes on the long-range view. In fact, everything about Christian life speaks of the long-range. “But he that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved.” (Matthew 24:13). Later, the apostle continues: “Therefore be ye also ready: for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of man cometh.” (Matthew 24:44)

I’m not here to tell you what area God would have you to consider in your life. Far from it. I’ve been inspired with this topic mostly because I’ve been wondering what God would have for me in the way of self-denial. There are so many areas where I could see places to improve. So many things that aren’t quite up to par. Am I willing to follow where He’s leading me? If He wants me to practice denying myself of anxieties that arise, am I willing to do my best to follow? How about toning down a part of my personality that has always been part of my identity? What of the ways that I usually relax? Am I open-hearted enough to allow Him to replace those things with a different plan? 

It's easy to shrug and say, “Oh, that’s just how I am. I know others who do the same thing.” But what of Miss Virginia’s rules? Are we respecting our Brothers and Sisters? Are we respecting ourselves? Are we respecting our Coach? Is our negligence placing honor where it is due, or soiling the Church we love?

I realize I’ve probably asked more questions than I have given answers, but maybe that’s OK. I’m not here with answers. Maybe what I’ve really spent all this space rambling about is willingness to follow direction, even though we don’t understand everything. I may not know the reason God is asking me to give something up or give in, but I do know I can trust Him enough that He has a reason—a good one—even though I can’t see into the future.

 God sees the long-range better than anyone. In His own words, He says “I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

His goal for us is so much bigger than winning a basketball game. It’s so much more than short-term pleasure. His goal is to draw us nearer to Himself, to mold us into the kind of person He created us to be. And someday there will be a reward waiting for us that is worth more than any earthly trophy. Am I ready to go wherever He leads? To deny whatever He asks to be denied? Are you?

 Oh, and Miss Virginia’s tournament game? Well, they won—even though a starting player was on the bench. This, too, speaks to me. Even though it may not look like winning in the eyes of the world, I can win in eternity by giving up those things that look impossible to do without.

 Are you ready to join me? We’ll make mistakes, but we’ll work together, pick ourselves up and continue onward, upward. Because we have will have a long-range view and a Father we know we can trust. And someday, as the song says, “It will be worth it all.”