Dig In. Pull.
Lately, the news has been nothing but doom and gloom.
Doom and Gloom.
Doom and Gloom.
DOOM AND GLOOM.
I don’t know about you guys, but I’m getting a little tired of unrelenting, unremitting tons of metaphorical dirt being shoveled on top of my metaphorical head.
Hey, Guys! I’m not dead! I think I’ll go for a walk! I feel happy! I feel happy!
Clonk
Doesn’t it just feel like the walls are closing in a little bit?
Don’t you feel like you’re being pulled a little? I sure do. It feels like some place I’ve been before. It feels like a tug-o-war.
I mean, with the bombing in Boston, and the imposition of what essentially was martial law, the warrantless searches (which were largely consented to, yes)…
With shots being fired at a gathering of protesters in Denver…
With an economy that people say is getting better, while prices on staples like food and fuel rise…
And, of course, it reminds me of a story…
STORY TIME!
I spent two years in the Philippines as a missionary for my church, and both Christmases I was there, all the missionaries gathered at a little ag college in the middle of our mission area for a big Christmas conference. We’d have talks and songs and a talent show. And the last day, we’d break out into teams and engage in a little friendly competition.
I was on the Green team, and…well, we weren’t the most athletically inclined people in the mission. In fact, if you’ve ever seen any of those movies where you essentially had a team of nerds who had to compete against teams of jocks…we were the nerds in that scenario. And we lost every competition we were in. Badly.
The climax of this exercise in humility (which is a good thing for a missionary to occasionally experience. And I suppose it’s really good for anyone when you get down to it…) was the tug-o-war. It was the most anticipated event of the competition, and it was the last event of the competition. I wasn’t really looking forward to it.
However, just before leaving for the Philippines, I’d been talking to my uncle – a Scoutmaster – who’d just gotten back from Scout camp, and he’d seen an interesting way of winning tug-o-wars demonstrated there as a particular troop took all comers and whooped ’em. So I figured… what the heck? We’ll give it a shot.
Being an American and the biggest guy on the team, I was automatically assigned the anchor position. So I walked to the back of that rope, and tied a loop around my waist. I kicked my flip-flops off into the grass, and waited for the signal. And when it came…
I turned around. I dropped to my hands and knees. I dug in my fingers and toes, and crawled.
And we won. It was…weird. But awesome.
The next team we pulled against was the red team. If we were the nerds in this little scenario, the reds were the jocks. (Let me introduce you to my team of ex-American Gladiators…Blade! Laser! Blazer! And my fitness consigliari… Mi’chell)
The signal went off, and I turned, dropped, and pulled. It was HARD. Much harder than the first pull had been. And though we had a little early success, it was shut down fast and hard. And I was pulling, my legs and arms aching from the unusual effort, and I’ll admit – I got to a point where I did not think I could go on any more. I was this close to giving up and letting go.
Boy, does that feeling seem familiar today.
Suddenly, from the crowd of onlookers, one of the sister missionaries came running over to me. She began jumping up and down and yelling at me “YOU CAN DO IT! KEEP GOING! YOU CAN DO IT! COME ON!!!”
This was a little frustrating to me. I was ready to quit. We weren’t going to win against the Red team. Right?
But…I couldn’t give up with this sister jumping up and down and clapping and yelling me on. I just couldn’t do it. So…I reached deep inside, pulled myself together, and somehow pulled harder. And incrementally, we started moving. Little by little, inch by inch, with Sister Raj cheering me on through every clutching grab and incremental step, with a whole team pulling with me, we won.
Third team came up and we beat them pretty easily.
You see where I’m going with this, right? We are in a struggle. Pulling with all our might. And it feels like we’re not winning – like the odds are insurmountable. Like we’re doomed to failure. Like we’re lost and scattered and going down for the third time.
I’ve been there. But I kept pulling. And we won. So, that’s the first lesson. Don’t stop pulling.
That was my first year at Christmas Conference.
The next year…
Again, somehow I was on the Green team. Same scenario. Except this time, with every setback, every loss, I would look at my team members and say…“It’s all right. We’ll win the tug-o-war.”
Now, I’ll be the first to admit that after we beat those first two teams that year (without anything close to the struggle that we had that first year with the Reds), I may have gotten a bit of a swelled head and said a couple things about being unbeatable. I was feeling my oats. Ah, hubris.
It was the last match. We were making steady progress. I knew we were about to win. And that’s when it happened.
Suddenly, I was ripped out of the ground, and flew backwards like I’d been fired from a catapult. Flew what felt like ten feet. Totally sent the Mission President’s daughter flying through the air. You’ve seen those Peanuts comics where someone gets tackled and his shoes and socks go flying off? Yeah. That.
And I got up, wandering around, and wondering what happened? How had we lost? I don’t think I had a concussion, but I was pretty darn dazed.
Well, turns out we’d won. And when we won, my team – in understandable and perfectly justified jubilation – dropped the rope and lifted their hands in a cheer. But the other team kept pulling. With somewhat spectacular results.
And that’s the second lesson. You can’t do it alone. The good news is, we aren’t alone. I can’t believe that we are. I keep thinking about 2 Kings 6, and the words keep coming to me They that are with us are greater than they that be with them.
So, if you feel things are pressing you down, pulling you back…
Dig in.
And pull.
