Ouch. Let’s not do that again.

When I was in my last year of high school, I had the opportunity to play football in a CFL stadium. I remember coming out of the locker room through the tunnel and out onto the field in Ivor Wynne Stadium in Hamilton. For a high school football player, it was pretty exciting.

I was in the huddle when they called my number – a play that required me to run right up the middle, which is where I preferred NOT to run given my size. They snapped the ball, the QB gave it to me and what happened next is probably best described as having Hummer ram itself into a Smart Car.

I got up off the ground and my head was ringing. I went back into the huddle and the coach called the same play. I did what any self-respecting Running Back would do.
I nearly peed myself.

When we experience pain, something inside us says “let’s never let that happen again.” While the idea of safety and self-preservation is attractive at first, what that philosophy actually breeds in us is a very limiting and suffocating approach to the future. In an effort to avoid pain we inadvertently avoid a lot of opportunities for growth, success, and real joy in life. In essence, we end up playing not to lose instead of playing to win.

“You might be disappointed by failure, but your doomed if you don’t try.” Beverly Sills

I am not suggesting we continue doing the same things, expecting different results to our own hurt. What I am saying is that decision making that is driven by past hurts, failures or disappointments are actually fear based decisions. Fear based decisions are not focusing on “how can I create something new?” but rather focused on “how can I avoid the pain from the past?” Those are two very different approaches to leadership, relationships, and life.

The play was called and I lined back up ready to take the ball once again. I didn’t have any control over that Defensive Lineman, I could only control my mind, my will, my legs. I needed to trust my teammates to do their job – my life (quite literally it felt) was in their hands. They snapped the ball, and my teammate took that Hummer H1 to the ground. I ended up running 45 yards for a touchdown and it remains to be one of my fondest memories in football. Every play did not have such a Disney Family Film ending, but my point is this:

All rewards carry an element of risk with them. The greatest risk is to take none.
Get up, dust yourself off, press on.

For though a righteous man falls seven times, he rises again. Prov 24:17