The shame of the lame

I saw Eli Manning limping around on the highlights of last week's NFL action, and for the first time I can say about an NFL player's "injury": I know exactly how he feels. I've never had a concussion or a torn acl, or a separated shoulder, or a pulled hamstring. But I have had more than my share of plantar faciitis agony. Like Eli.

It's not a football injury per se. But then strangely, I started thinking about how if feels to be limping around. In life and on the football field.

Folks on the other team notice and they smirk and they think and say: "We got him." Oddsmakers start trying to figure out how to properly evaluate what how your injury will sway the confidence people have in the ability of the rest of your team. Your teammates will try to get you up off the field so others won't know of your vulnerablity. (Take a look at Tim Tebow's teammates trying to get him up off the field after his concussion a couple weeks ago) I can remember a time or two when I was laid out to have people say: come on- get up man- people are watching.

I hate having people ask me: "What's wrong? You OK?" When my tendon is acting up, I try to take the back way and act like everything is fine.

It's difficult to acknowledge a limp. It's hard to be aware of the limp of others and when to try to get them up off the field and when to ask them what's wrong and when to pretend like you don't notice.

There is a unofficial interesting trend I am noticing. My 22 year old colleague expressed genuine excitement about going to see Rob Bell on his Drops Like Stars Tour because he was going to be talking about suffering. As a 22 year old Director of Youth Ministry at a large church, he knows a little bit about suffering.

My 14 year old daughter spent some time last evening showing me the Drops Like Stars book at Barnes and Noble last night. It's about suffering she explained. As a freshmen in high school, and a girl no less, she knows about suffering- affluent american style.

It seems like lots of times we are in the business of living in a suffering-free-way. If you only believe this, or do this enough, or give enough of your time here, you won't have to suffer. You won't have to limp. You won't have to lie on the field unconscious. People won't look at you and say: "What's wrong?"

But I'm encouraged by the genuine respect and interest some folks around me are sharing for suffering.

I'm trying to say to those who sometimes don't agree with my idea, my vision, or my leadership: I appreciate you. You're probably suffering and our ministry together is about acknowledging that. And not trying to fix it or sell you on my way. Just to acknowledge it, talk about it, and agree that when we come to ministry: we all bring our gifts, and intellect, and our Christianity.

And we bring our humanity and our grief and our suffering.

And we limp along, hopefully together, in our love of God and one another.