Full Court Press

Excerpt from “Someone Else’s Diary, Vol. II”
By Ree

Philippians 3:14 I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.

“Press!” my high school basketball coach would scream, and we 5 girls would immediately spread out in a 3-1-1 formation. The opposing team would attempt to inbound the ball to one of their guards, who would immediately dribble to one side of the court or the other. I always played on the left side of the court in one of the three positions. The middle position, usually Marion, would force the ball handler towards me, or Gwen on the right, where we would “trap” the guard by boxing her against the sideline. My foot would be on the sideline, Marion would square to me, and the guard would be forced to pass the ball to a team mate. Gwen would cut from the other side of the court and pick off the pass, or, if the ball was thrown over my reach, Erica, who would play mid-court, would attempt to pick off the lob pass. If she missed, we still had Jayne in the final position in the back court position to stop any breakaways. This didn’t happen very often, though. If the guard was trapped, we usually forced the turnover. It was a great full court press…very effective. And it took all of us.

The trouble with pressing, though, is the vulnerability of the back court player. If we did not execute and pressure the ball aggressively, the chances of giving up a goal were high. Often, if the press wasn’t working, we would drop back into our man to man defense. The key was knowing when and how to press, and when to fall back.

I’d been engaged in a spiritual full court press. My devotional life had deepened, and I found myself spending more time journaling, reading, and praying. Prayer requests had been flooding in and I engaged my prayer team in this full court press by passing on the requests to them. Sometimes, though, the enemy gets his breakaway and scores on me…he scored yesterday. He attacked where I am vulnerable…my family. Mom’s voice on the phone, broken and weeping was almost more than I could stand.

I laid awake last night thinking about all the prayer requests, all the hurt, all the frustration…everything that everyone experiences and I realized I could do nothing…absolutely nothing…to help. I began feeling useless, ineffective, and overwhelmed. It was time to drop back from the full court press and protect my heart. I wanted to run, hide, and avoid everyone. I didn’t want to work at this faith walk any more. Full court pressure is too hard to keep up for long. I wanted to sit on the sidelines and rest.

Pressing when the game is hard is vital to victory. Working harder is the only way we grow. It is easy to worship and give glory to God when our lives are wonderful and all is running smoothly. It is easy to run a full court press on a weaker team. I realized these needs and hurts were brought to me to show me that the enemy is right…I AM useless and weak in and of myself. I can do nothing…but for Christ. My game will not improve unless I press on IN HIM. I cannot win without Him. He is the ultimate “Ringer.” He sets the plays, the defensive strategy, the offensive strategy, the rules, and picks my teammates…everything. And I can either choose the full court press…or I can sit on the bench and watch the others play.

I never was much for bench warming….

The Hummingbird

Excerpt from “Someone Else’s Diary, Vol. II”
By: Ree

I don’t know what others’ encounters have been with hummingbirds. My own have been to catch only fleeting glimpses of them as they dart to the feeder and suck up the sugar water my father sets out for them. Always they are flitting, their wings moving so rapidly they seem to hum, their feathers glinting green with a bit of white and red. Then they are gone. They are timid little things, and will shoot away if anyone is too close their feeder.

While in La Quinta, I was strolling through the paths lined with prickly pear, cactus, and strange blooming trees that I do not know the name of. I passed under such a tree with its bright orange-yellow flowers and stopped to look at the design of the petals, when I noticed right above my head, a humming bird. Smaller than Michigan humming birds, this one was black, tiny, and not more than an inch long with a white throat. The bird was so tiny that the entire body might have disappeared in the blossom, but for the mad whipping of the wings.

I stood under that bird, cursing myself for not having my camera on hand. I was not more than 3 feet from the creature, much closer than I have ever been to a hummingbird. The feathers gleamed with the same, weird iridescent shine of Michigan birds, and this fellow was so intent on the flower’s nectar, that he did not seem to notice how close to him I stood.

I smiled up at the busy bird and watched him for a long time. I studied him until he had his fill and he flew away. Later, as I was returning from a class, I was on the same path and looked up in the tree. The humming bird was not there, so I continued my walk for about three steps. I don’t know how, but I spotted the little chap on a branch, not four feet up and once again very close to me. He just sat there, watching me. I stared back at him in awe. I had never seen a hummingbird still before. We gazed at each other for several moments; both of our heads were cocked to the side as we regarded each other with great interest. He never moved.

I was tempted to keep this little encounter to myself; however, God had a parable for me.

“Rebecca, I watch you the same way you watched the hummingbird work. Notice how he was oblivious to your presence, intent only on the task at hand.”

I objected. “Lord, I look up at You all the time!”

“You spin the plates, Rebecca. Let them fall.”

I knew what He meant. My analogy of my life is that I raced from spinning plate to spinning plate, flitting here and there, intent on working at relationships, working on myself, exercising, dieting, school, Jacob, work problems, seminars, vacations, family problems, buying a house problems, Jacob needs an instrument, Kristyn needs help with tuition…plate after plate is placed on a pole and I run to each as in turn they begin to wobble as they lose momentum and attend to them as quickly as other plates show signs of teetering.

“Let them fall, Rebecca.”

“Lord, I can’t. They will break!”

“Am I not the mender of what is broken? Regard me, as the hummingbird regarded you! Sit still before Me and gaze at Me. Study Me. Learn who I Am. Allow Me to admire your beauty as you watch Me with interest and wonder. You are My creation. Rest and look at Me.”

What could I say? He was right. The plates were going to fall anyway, some would shatter, and some may chip. But certainly I would never be able to spin them all without a mishap, without wearing myself out. I could watch them fall through my failure, or let them fall through my choosing.

“Let the plates fall, Rebecca.”

Luke 10:40 – 42 But Martha was encumbered with much serving, and came to Him and said, "Lord, dost Thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? Bid her therefore that she help me." And Jesus answered and said unto her, "Martha, Martha, thou art anxious and troubled about many things. But one thing is needful, and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her." NKJV