Hello,

     There are benchmarks to growing old, and I have just passed one of them.  Last week, I played my first game of pickle ball.  Pickle ball is all the rage with the retired set, especially in golden age communities.  It is played on a basketball half-court, using solid paddles the size of a racquetball racquet, a green heavy plastic whiffle ball, and a net a little lower than a tennis net.  When asked to describe the game, I say it is sort of like ping pong on the ground.  It isn’t a lot of running, but it tests your reaction time.  It is fun.

     So, in my maiden voyage into pickle ball, I didn’t embarrass myself too much.  As a matter of fact, a couple of the regular players at the “Y” said to me, “You must have played some tennis.”

     “A little,” I responded back.  With only two courts, you rotate into games, which are played to 7 points.  As I rotated in and out of several games, I got to feeling more comfortable in my play, too comfortable, actually.  While near the net, the other team lobbed a shot over my head and I had to turn around and run after it.  Reaching the baseline, I got there before it hit the ground, so I turned around visioning an ESPN highlight shot.  My confidence, however, was over rated, because as I began my turn, my feet got tangled up with one another, and with humiliating clumsiness, I went tumbling to the ground….my bum hitting the floor and my head hitting the cement block wall. (Fear not, the wall was not damaged.)

     Lying flat on the floor, I reached up to feel my head to make sure that nothing had seeped out….a little sore, but okay.  And then I put my hand on my bum, not so spared as my head. There was a residual pain, a pain that I thought I could walk off and play off.  I played a couple more games, but as the play went on, it became more painful to stretch for shots and to cover the court.  I graciously took leave of the games, and trudged my way up the stairway to the locker room.  I was glad that no one was there, because I didn’t want to answer the question that would have been asked of me as I grunted in pain when I sat down, “How did you hurt yourself?”  (Somehow the answer, “Playing pickle ball,” seems terribly whimpy.)

     I got home, received a modicum of sympathy from my wife who said, “Take a couple of Advil and go sit on some ice.”  (Sitting on ice is her normal remedy to my aches and pains….she’s a physical therapist.”)  It didn’t bring much relief.  I am pretty sure that I bruised my tailbone and only time will help.  So, I have been gingerly hobbling around and wincing when I try to sit.

     The misery of my fall has been slowly abating over the days, but there is enough pain yet remaining to rub salt into my embarrassment over my clumsiness.  I know that I am not the only one who is clumsy and falls, as a matter of fact we all do it…..all the time.  Maybe not on a pickle ball court, but certainly on the courts of life.  Truth is, we all stumble in life…sometimes just a mild fall, and sometimes a real tumble, and when we do, most often we do not only carry embarrassment, but shame.  “Stupid!”  “Fool!”  “Loser!” “Piece of s%*#!” …and the pain that goes with it.

     I don’t know if you have ever thought about it this way, but, in fact, those who gather every Sunday morning in church are all admitted stumblers in life.  In my church, we start off every worship service admitting that fact to one another, “We are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves.  We have sinned against you  (God) in what we have done, and what we have left undone.”  And then after owning up to our clumsiness, as painful as it is, we don’t hear the names that the world calls us….words that we probably deserve.  Instead we hear, “In his mercy, God sent his Son to die for you, and for his sake, your sins are forgiven.”  We also hear, “all you that are heavy laden, come to me and rest.”   We also hear, “come to my table and take my forgiveness into your very being.”  We also hear,  “Go in peace.  Serve the Lord.”

     So, when you stumble, and we all do, let me invite you to a place where you won’t be laughed at, you won’t be shamed, you won’t be foully named….but you will be forgiven.  And although the pain of your stumbling may still linger for a while as you venture out into the world that won’t let you forget your stumbling, the balm of God’s forgiveness works far better than Advil and ice, for God’s grace …. God’s love for you… is greater than your greatest stumble or fall.  As Jesus said, “Take up your mat and walk.”

Have a great week, full of hope as you enter this new year.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger