I think I can; I wish I can
I can guarantee that because you are a human being there is a preferred version of the future you secretly expect. I can vouch that you have private codes you wish people in your life would act by.
Because we like to be in control of our lives, people will take their own expectations for granted. Standards fly under the radar and we don't notice them – until they are breached. Too often, we are not aware of the hopes that peer groups, family members and colleagues have of us, and that can create conflict.
Me, myself, and I, or – ahem, “we”
I used to believe that conflict was created by demands that were irrelevant to their second party. When a person doesn't share your dream they're less likely to help you to reach it, and that can cause frustration. Arguments bubble undetected, though, when demands are relevant to two or a greater number and sought so intensely that they squeeze out additional expectations that may be significant to life quality. This is basically selfishness.
Family laurels...
We're addicted to watching the Olympics in our home. My elder sister is visiting us with her family. We crowd around the TV at night – and I never usually watch TV, and never ever in our family sitting room -- to follow Britain's medal prospects, complete with our own running commentary. We enjoy sharing in team GB's success together.
When athletes are interviewed after their podium finish, it's likely they'll say a variation on the following theme: I'm thrilled. I've got it! A gold medal to take home. This is for my family! This gold represents the last four years of hard work and all the sacrifices they've made for me.
When your dream won't make the rostrum today...
Athletes say this because families have put aside their range of everyday dreams. Husbands, wives, sons and daughters, mums and dads, and siblings, have allowed their superstar to pursue diet controls, body routines and man-hours that intrude into how intimate relationships are structured and, for a time, obscure their own expectations.
The all-important WHY!!!
Why do families sacrifice? Why do they live with the conflict this creates? Because the prize of being an Olympian carries the honour that will be remembered for generations. The process of becoming a champ, we are told, carries a smidgen of guilt for the discipline that winners require. Champions have to be controlling of schedules, budgets and distractions. This dedication affects not only the will-power of the champion, but everyone in their orbit.
I'm sure the families involved value the Olympic athlete themselves far above the hoped for winning position, Do they feel valued in return by their VIP? Thank you speeches on national TV occasionally hint “yes.”
This is gratifying as a TV viewer, we can all relate to the decision when we have chosen to put someone else first. For the athlete whose potential is elevated above all other demands, it seems sacrifice is a gift that is difficult to receive. This is humbling TV, that reminds us that humility is a virtue, prized in fact, by great achievers.
I think you can! I wish you can!
To recap, families with an athlete on the medal path are frequently at a crossroads. Time and attention is limited. Those near to an athlete chose to elevate the discipline of predictability above the intimacy of private expectations again and again. They hope this will pay-off. But of course, it's a big risk. Having someone who is prepared to take a chance on you shows there is a value in your endeavours.
The triangle of dream, athlete and supportive family is one I have pondered lately, because of my
own latent expectations of what a church could do for me, according to the expectations that I believe Jesus has of it, as his bride. This is a flawed analogy, but hear me out. I know I'm not an athlete. I'm an underdog who was once out of the prizes. I'm not looking for a church to compete for me though, I still want to win my own race. I want to find a place that will cheer me on.
My gold medal race... who to share it with?? Let me run...
Christians are familiar with the theme of sacrifice. I want to be crystal clear that my gold medal is relational. I want to “order my loves.” I want the honour in my life to flow in from the top, guided by the golden throne of Jesus, the King. And I want that glory to touch my friends and family, and my community. I want the whole field to run into the arms of Jesus.
My greatest passion is Christ. And I understand that he is the narrow path whose training leads to abundant life. I have to come to terms with the Church being full of athletes with hopes of gold medals that represent salvation.
The sporting types...
In the Church, we all should medal, and that requires accommodation of infinite athletic events. What is finite is our will-power, attention and resources. But it's not right that some athletes are given false starts. We shouldn't be disqualified from grace, not by our singleness, marriages, jobs, and certainly not by our churches. I've told stories, and heard tales, in which this is exactly what happens.
On the contrary, it is the hope of God, recorded in the Psalms, that every single one of those church-going, gold medal athletes we call Christians are to be given a supportive family to help them pull through. God puts the lonely in families. And I have been lonesome in my faith walk. If I had my moment on national TV to thank those who have helped me, my nightmare is they'd reply, watching their plasma screens, "Who is she?"
Coach me beautiful & pump it up!!!
I go into a church, I ask myself if the training I receive from the message, worship, informal conversation and servant-heartedness will lead me to life that will give me the spirit of a grateful athlete. I have high expectations. I want to be known, for my discipline, for my struggle, because I wear Jesus's team colours.
I know that every church is 100% filled with gold-medal winning athletes as far as Jesus is concerned. Where is the place that will honour my achievements for the sake of Jesus' glory? Where can I learn to be authentic and grateful? Who will help me to be that performer?
We all have the name of our events inscribed upon our souls and I am a good cheerer-oner. Like an athlete, I find it hard if a church betrays me on my journey to claim Jesus as my prize. I desire affirmation. I want a team who will cheer for me, pump Jesus up and bring out gold-medal quality in my relationships.