We [could] hear crying from the basement, getting increasingly louder as Ian, [our] pastor's 4-year-old son, made his way up the stairs. When Ian rounded the corner, it looked like he'd lost a fight with NHL enforcer Mike Ricci. His face was a bloody mess.
[My son], Tristan, rounded the corner a moment later, looking sheepish. If he had been a professional athlete, his agent would have crafted a statement: "I regret that Ian's face collided with a ball I threw. Sometimes basement play can get rough, and I have no control over that aspect of it. I give my best to Ian and his family in hopes that we can put this unfortunate incident behind us."
In sports, the idea that there is sin—and therefore true repentance—is ludicrous. Athletes apologize because they have to. They apologize because they've been caught.
Gladly, Tristan isn't a pro athlete. [Even at 5 he knew] how to apologize. He's not jaded by things like public relations and spin; he can still manage to be genuinely contrite. I pray that this will be the case when he's 25 and apologizing to his spouse, or (God forbid) apologizing on national television for something he did as a high-profile athlete.
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Lord, help me to watch sports—and all that entertains me—with my mind fully engaged; and even as I enjoy what I watch, help me to be discerning and apply Christian principles to all of my entertainment choices.
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