20

It’s Only Halftime

The world’s largest boarding school for missionary children is Faith Academy in Manila. Perched on a steep hillside at the edge of the sprawling city, it offers kindergarten through high school for more than six hundred students whose parents are scattered all across Asia and the Pacific.

For decades, the basketball coach, Tine Hardeman, has been a campus favorite. He was there when Martin first arrived as a fifth grader, and only now is he thinking about retirement. A loving and optimistic man, he just has a way of pulling the best out of kids.

I got to hear him speak not long ago at an alumni gathering in Nashville. Of course he fascinated the crowd with basketball stories from over the years, and even though I never attended Faith Academy or played for him, I enjoyed the tales of glory and challenge along with the rest.

Tine’s inspirational point was “You’ve got to stay in the game!” He talked about halftime, when the players troop off the court sweaty and tired. They glance at the scoreboard once more as they head for the locker room, where they gulp some water and slump down on the benches or the floor. The coach walks in behind them with much to say. He tells them what they’ve done well, but he spends more time on what they need to improve. He analyzes what the opponents have been doing and shows how to adjust. He winds up his pep talk with a rousing speech of “Awwright, let’s get back out there and play a great second half!”

This became an analogy to our life. “Wherever you are in the world, and whatever you’re doing,” Tine said, “the game’s not over yet. There’s another half yet to go. My challenge to you today is this: Stay in the game! Keep pressing on, as Paul says in Philippians 3:14, ‘to reach the end . . . and receive the prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us up to heaven.’ ”

I sat there thinking about my life. I wasn’t an athlete, but I could still identify with his analogy. It’s halftime in my ball game, I told myself. The first half was long. It went well for the most part. But the last two minutes were very hard. I lost my all-star teammate. I had to fight like everything to stay in the game.

Now—I’ve had my rest break. I’ve heard the halftime pep talk, I’ve gotten a cold drink, and the second half of my life is ready to begin.

To be honest, I don’t even know what position I’ll be playing, other than the position of mom to my three kids. Beyond that, I can’t predict. Will I even have a public position out on the floor? Maybe I’ll just be sitting on the bench cheering for the others. But the coach—the heavenly Coach—will let me know as the second half goes on. Whatever he asks, I will do it with all my heart. We want to win this thing! We want to dominate. We want to come out on top.

The day will come for me when the final buzzer sounds. But for now, there’s a lot of work to do. A lot of running and passing and scrambling for the loose ball. My job is to give it every ounce of energy I’ve got.

It’s only halftime.

*   *

Have you ever heard of Bert Elliot? Probably not. You’re much more likely to recognize the name of his famous brother, Jim, who was martyred at the age of twenty- eight on an Ecuadorian river sandbar while trying to reach a primitive tribe for Christ. Four of Jim’s colleagues died that same day in January 1956. The whole world heard their story of bravery and sacrifice.

Meanwhile, Bert Elliot and his wife, Colleen, never made a big splash. But they have played a much longer game. At the time of this writing, they have served the Lord in Peru (next door to Ecuador) for fifty-three years. They have established churches and have played a major role in founding the first Christian school in the country.

Who knows why some people’s names become prominent, while others plod along doing what God asks of them day after day, year after year, with little earthly reward or recognition? These are heroes, too. And I have a feeling that heaven will someday balance out the popularity score.

The writer of the epistle to the Hebrews promises, “God is not unfair. He will not forget how hard you have worked for him and how you have shown your love to him by caring for other Christians, as you still do. Our great desire is that you will keep right on loving others as long as life lasts, in order to make certain that what you hope for will come true” (Hebrews 6:10-11, italics added).

At a certain point in the apostle John’s vision of the future, he tells how:

The twenty-four elders sitting on their thrones before God fell on their faces and worshiped him. And they said,

“We give thanks to you, Lord God Almighty,

   the one who is and who always was,

for now you have assumed your great power

   and have begun to reign. . . .

It is time to judge the dead and reward your servants.

You will reward your prophets and your holy people,

all who fear your name, from the least to the greatest.”

(Revelation 11:16-18)

No matter what setbacks have come our way, we must stay in the game “as long as life lasts.” The ultimate evaluation before the throne of God will deal with us all, “from the least to the greatest.” The present is no time to quit. We dare not imagine that our effort in the second half will go unnoticed.

One of my favorite movies is Apollo 13, the dramatic story of the American-manned mission to the moon in 1970 that experienced an onboard explosion. The tension is nearly overwhelming as the Houston engineers work feverishly to try to get the three astronauts back to earth. At one point, somebody in the control center says, “This could be NASA’s biggest disaster.”

I love the next line from the flight controller, played by Ed Harris: “With all due respect, sir—this could be our finest hour.”

And it was!

The present chaos in your life and mine is not the final score. We are still in the thick of life. With God’s help, we can still salvage this game. We need to keep our heads about us, listen to the coaching, and play our hearts out.

*   *

Before I flew home from the Philippines to reunite with my children and rebuild my life, the American embassy was kind enough to arrange for a Secret Service escort team to make the trip with me. They kept a professional air, of course, as we flew from Manila to Tokyo to Minneapolis to Kansas City.

But not long afterward, I received an e-mail from one of the agents. He wanted to encourage me, and he did so by quoting the following lines from Martin Luther’s famous hymn, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God”:

The body they may kill;

God’s truth abideth still.

His kingdom is forever.

I have taped those words to my mirror at home. They remind me that as awful as Martin’s death was, it was not the end of God’s work in the world. And it did not have to be the end of my productive life, either. I intend to keep being a part of God’s kingdom, which goes on forever.

THE END

(Well, at least I thought it was the end. It seemed like a nice, neat way to wrap up this book—until I made a trip with my children to Mississippi and had a talk with Reverend Hartman . . .)