I love basketball. My jump shot is terrible. My dribbling skills are worthless. But, I love the game. In my house, all sports were a part of life. We watched everything, even Nascar (which I don’t consider a sport, but maybe it’s like marching band, those who participate in it consider it a sport). I was probably the only 9 year old girl who could tell you about Freddy Couples’ putting struggles or about Spurrier’s challenge to find a good QB1 until Danny Wuerfel came on the scene when all our prayers were answered. I became a fan of certain teams because of who my dad was a fan. He liked the Celtics, I liked the Celtics. He liked Dale Earnhardt, I liked Dale Earnhardt.
Then, sometime around 1990, I really discovered my favorite game. My cousin had become a fan of Duke. Coach K had been there just a few years and was really beginning to build a great program. So, my dad started paying a little more attention to Duke Basketball. Even though we are Florida fans through and through, we became Duke basketball fans.
A couple of years later, Duke had made it to the Elite 8 in the March Madness tournament. Kentucky was the team to beat. They were a powerhouse at the time. The game was close the whole way. Then, in the last few moments it was tied. With 2.2 seconds on the clock, Duke had the ball. My dad was on the edge of the couch, my mom was intently staring at the screen, I was standing on the couch, perched with anticipation. There had been a turnover, Duke was getting the ball at the opposite end of the court, Grant Hill passes the ball to Christian Laettner where he’s standing near the foul shot line. Laettner catches it, turns around, shoots, and nothing but net. Duke wins the game and advances to the Final Four and ultimately to win the championship. Kentucky fans are still bitter about this.
The elation in my house was unreal. We were all ecstatic at what we had witnessed. The simple turn around shot of Laettner changed the whole game. I was reading the book of Esther the other day and got to the point in the story that there is what Bible teachers call divine reversal. The story is headed one way, then it completely turns. In the climax of Esther, the story is Haman has built gallows to hang the queen’s cousin and made plans to annihilate the entire Jewish population from the Persian Empire. But one night, Esther has invited Haman and the King to dinner, she reveals the plot and suddenly Haman is the one hanged on the gallows he built for Mordecai and Mordecai is made the king’s trusted adviser. In what seems like a split second, the whole story changed.
Have you ever sat with what seems like limited time on the clock? Where it seems like 2.2 seconds are all that is left and if someone doesn’t make the basket, you end up like Kentucky. Lost and headed home defeated. I have. We as Christians say God is not limited by time. He has no shot clock. That “he’s on on-time God”. Which is true but often our circumstances are controlled by time. There are decisions to be made. Pending actions of others that require our action.
Esther fought the clock. She knew time was limited. Mordecai even says to her, if you don’t do what you need to do, God will find someone else. It’s like Coach K saying to Laettner, if you’re not willing to take this shot, I’ll get somebody else.
I sit in a place waiting on a divine reversal. It’s like life has been on a timeout and suddenly the timeout is over and there’s a clock that has 2.2 seconds left. Somebody’s got to pass the ball and somebody’s got to turnaround and make the shot. I need God’s turnaround. I need his divine reversal for as the book of Genesis puts it “the saving of many lives”. This situation is pinnacle and it seems there is only limited time.
So, my question is what’s my role? Am I Hill or am I Laettner? I’m Hill and I’m trusting that Jesus is Laettner. So, in this 2.2 seconds that is left in this particular game, I’m in bounding the ball to Jesus. My advocate with the father. I’m trusting that if I pass my control off to him, he’s going to turn the situation around and score with nothing but net.
