Finding Victory Off the Field

I’ve been a competitor my whole life. I began playing soccer at the tender age of 4, although some may argue that making dandelion chains and chasing butterflies hardly qualifies as playing soccer. Eventually, I caught on to the point of wearing matching t-shirts with a number on the back, funny shoes, and plastic hidden under our socks. All I had to do was kick the ball with my feet into a large rectangular box, backed by orange netting and my team would get a point. The team with the most points wins. I could do that. So I did, for the next 20-something years. It came naturally to me and I loved the thrill of competition. While soccer was my main competitive outlet, it wasn’t the only one. I competed in ice hockey, track and field, show choir, memorizing Bible verses, board games, water balloon tosses, test grades, fishing contests, and of course who saw the Big Bobber water tower first on the way up to the cabin. You name it, I won it, I mean competed for it. I thrived on competing in anything that won me a trophy, medal, merit badge, write-up in the newspaper, or the satisfaction of knowing I was better than someone at something.

            

Being a Christian, I always tried to be a humble competitor, one who worked hard and demonstrated integrity in the way I competed. But below the surface bubbled a prideful heart that warred with the humble competitor I was striving to be. I wanted to be the best and put in many hours to perfect my chosen crafts, so why shouldn’t I get the glory for my hard work? But at the same time I knew that my gifts came from God, my work ethic came from God, and He provided the resources so I could participate in my chosen contests. Does that mean glory belonged to him? This competition for who was responsible for my success, a fight between my prideful self and my humble self, has waged for many years, and truth be told, is often a daily struggle.

            

I was blessed to compete in the sport I loved for many years, enjoying the ups and downs of wins and losses, success and failures that are all a part of the beautiful game. So what does a retired, performance driven, college soccer player do for competition once she’s graduated? Well find other soccer players to compete with of course! The funny thing I’ve discovered about pride is that insecurity over damaging said pride follows closely behind. I never liked to share what level soccer I played in college, because what if I didn’t live up expectations? What if I’d lost my touch? What if I’d lost a few steps and no longer possessed what it took to compete on the soccer field? Did I ever really have what it took to compete on the soccer field? The fate of championship t-shirts may ride squarely on my shoulders! This is an over-dramatization but not far from some of the thoughts that flooded my over-achieving, self-reliant, competition-driven mind. I defined myself for so long by what I was able to accomplish, that when those opportunities for accomplishment ended, I lost part of my identity. In order to win back that identity, I had to find new ways to compete, new goals to accomplish. So I took to the field. I told everyone it was just for fun, a way to stay in shape, a way to stay connected to the friends and family I played with, and a way to stay connected to a game I enjoyed.

            

But part of me knew it was more than that, it was a water-downed way to feed the beast that was my pride. The monster that it fed didn’t always rear its ugly head to the people around me but internally I was beating myself up for mistakes, getting frustrated when people weren’t working as hard as I was, and hating games where I couldn’t put the ball in the net, even if we won. Now don’t get me wrong, I still loved it, but I think that may be due in part to the blinders I wore for years about the truth of my prideful heart. It took a knock to the head for the cobwebs to clear and God to reveal the work he wanted to do in me.

            

After the concussion I sustained that fateful January night while competing in the game I loved, God gave me time to reflect on a lot of things. In his most loving, tender way he told me, “Oh sweet daughter, you are a fool, I have a better way.” And thus began the journey of the last couple months. It’s been a time of healing, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. A time for God to remind me who I am to Him, the only identity that truly matters. I am a daughter of the most high king, blessed, chosen, adopted, favored, forgiven, redeemed. All the trophies and accolades I accumulated here on earth were merely cheap imitations of the identity I longed to claim all because of what Christ did for me on the cross. It is done, victory is his and in turn, victory is mine.

            

What’s incredible is that God didn’t stop there with his lesson plan. Over the last couple months, I’ve played a different role at sporting events than what I am used to. It is the one of spectator. Most of my life has been spent competing in athletic contests, but now games that I once played in, I watch. And since I don’t have to pay close attention to what is happening, I chat.  When I am not so focused on winning or losing, I am able to connect with the people around me. When I was so wrapped up in my performance, it was difficult to see anyone but myself. Even when talking with people, I competed to have the best story to share, thinking about the next witty tidbit I was going to share instead of listening to the person in front of me. I’ll probably expand more in my next post about what God is teaching me regarding relationships, but the connections I made on the sidelines this winter had a profound impact on how I viewed my new non-competitor status.  Don’t get me wrong, if you ask anyone who played Battle of the Sexes with me last weekend, they’d tell you I still enjoy a good competition and get wrapped up on the heat of the moment. I’m still a work in progress. But I’m learning that people are always more important than winning or losing, proving that I’m right, or having the best story to share. My worth is wrapped up not in my athletic ability or witty repartee, but in the love God has for me, and how I allow that love to overflow into a world that desperately needs it. It is a love we don’t have to compete for, but is given when we surrender our lives to the one who laid down his life as a sacrifice for us. Our identity is not tied to competition and performance, but who we are in Christ. Through Him and His sacrifice, victory is always ours.

"Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:

Who, being in very nature God,

     did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,

but made himself nothing,

     taking the very nature of a servant,

     being made in human likeness.

And being found in appearance as a man,

     he humbled himself

     and became obedient to death-

          even death on a cross!

Therefore God exalted him to the highest place

     and gave him the name that is above every name,

that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,

      in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,

      to the glory of God the Father."

~Philippians 2:3-11 (NIV)

Never be afraid to claim the victory that is yours in Christ. Surrendering is not safe and goes against everything we are taught about how to live our lives. But there is freedom in surrender and victory that surpasses all we can think or imagine. Have a blessed day!