I have a confession: Even though I taught Zumba for six years, grew up with Richard Simmons, and have completed 3 half marathons (before my knees went to you-know-what), I am 110% not sporty.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m strong. My sumo squats are on point. I can cupid shuffle and electric slide and cha cha with the best of them. But athletic? No. As a kid and teenager I was plagued by insecurity and lack of coordination and a fair amount of awkwardness. This kept me from ever pursuing participation in sports and I happily found my place in the choir instead.

But, as a mom, my life is spent running from one practice to another, from a game to a concert, and back again. I sheepishly wipe my tears as I cheer when my son hits a home run. I wring my hands when he is on the pitcher’s mound. I sit on the edge of my seat when the team is coming up from behind.

This fall season of sports continually has my emotions running high. My son’s first couple of cross country races left him feeling discouraged and disappointed. And yet, he found it within himself to persevere. He shaved two minutes off of his race time in just three days. My mom heart explodes each time he crosses the finish line.

My daughter is playing volleyball for the first time. Starting from scratch, she has beat herself up more than once and struggled with the insecurity of learning new skills. And yet, she has found it within herself to persevere. Even though she is sitting on the bench a lot this first time around, she gets out there with confidence, digs, and gets that dang ball over the net more often than not. My mom heart explodes every time she makes contact with the ball.

It seems that races and matches are becoming a new kind of pulpit for me. As I cheer in the bleachers or at the finish line, the players and the runners and the game itself have a message and meaning that goes much deeper than the scoreboard.

A couple of weeks ago, I watched as a young team of girls soared from behind. They were down by 16 during the first set. It seemed that this was going to be quick loss. Then, suddenly, it was like a fire was lit under them and they decided that they were not going to settle for a loss. They started fighting like absolute warriors. They did not quite manage to win the first set, but came up from behind with a score of 25-22. They killed the next set and won the final set, 17-15. When the final point was scored, the team rushed onto the court cheering and screaming as if they had won the state championship.

Those girls didn’t stop. They didn’t give up. They decided that losing was not an option even when the scoreboard said that it was nearly inevitable.

We lose every time we think what appears to be a loss is a loss when the game isn’t over yet.

Sometimes the scoreboard of life tells us that the game is over.

Sometimes the scoreboard of the circumstances our past tell us that the game is over.

The game is not over.

Are you weak and inexperienced?

Are you up against a beast who serves the ball over the net like it’s nothing?

Does it seem like everything is going wrong and you just can’t catch a break?

Does it seem like everyone is racing past you to the finish line and you are falling behind, barely able to catch your breath?

Is financial and vocational uncertainty paralyzing you from moving forward?

I get it. I do. But, let me tell you something : the score in the middle of the game has nothing to do with whether we win or lose.

What is life throwing at you that you need to break through so that there will be victory at the finish line?

Dig.

Fight.

Don’t you dare give up.

The game is not over.

-Tam XOXO

Check out Life as Pulpit on Youtube as my daughter and I go into more detail about Scoreboard as Pulpit. You will love hearing from her!

If you are new to this “Life as Pulpit” thing and not quite sure what it’s all about, check this out…