Somewhere Out There
As a kid, I always thought I was behind and needed that extra hour to catch up. Jim Jones once told me, “No matter how many shots you take, somewhere there’s a kid out there taking one more. If you dribble a million times a day, someone is dribbling a million and one.” Whenever I’d get ready to call it a day, I’d think, “No. Somebody else is still practicing. Somebody – somewhere – is playing that extra ten or fifteen minutes and he’s going to beat me someday.” I’d practice some more and then I’d think, “Maybe that guy is practicing his free throws now.” So, I’d go to the line and practice my free throws and that would take another hour. I don’t know if I practiced more than anybody, but I sure practiced enough. I still wonder if somebody – somewhere – was practicing more than me.
– Larry Bird, Drive
My first awareness of change within me came as I began to reflect on how I performed the mundane responsibilities from which I felt so alienated. Though I was not completely alive to them, I was able at least to think about them, if only from a distance. I was struck by how wonderfully ordinary life is. Simply being alive became holy to me. As I saw myself typing exams, chatting with a student on the way to class, or tucking one of my children into bed, I sensed I was beholding something sacred. My encounters with students presented astonishing opportunities to listen and encourage. Bedtime with Catherine, David, and John allowed me to convey the blessing and love of God to them. I was not yet fully alive to these ordinary moments, but I began to glimpse how profound they were.