What a Good Sport Looks Like

Fabulous, isn't it?  Thanks to my oldest BFF in the world, Carolyn, for capturing me in all of my glory.  We don't need no stinkin' hair and make-up people in the cave! (More on this lovely photo later...)

Today, I'm thinking about what it means to be a good sport.  I'm also thinking that our world doesn't have very many.  Good sports, that is.

I like to think I'm a good sport.  Take my history with Carolyn, for instance.  She was a great basketball player when we were in high school (like, nine or so years ago...cough!) and I was a mediocre basketball player. But, when she made a basket it was like I made a basket.  It was like, "Whoo-hoo, buddy!" As a matter a fact, I was even told that I was like a cheerleader trying to play basketball. I took that as a compliment....like I was really happy for others and encouraging. Isn't that sweet?

(Rats! You know from all of the "likes" I just used in that last paragraph that I wasn't in high school nine years ago. It was really, like, the 80's and like, yes, it was, like, totally awesome!)

ANYWAY, the picture of me in a motorcycle helmet.  Well, that's me being a good sport, too.  I could tell you I love riding motorcycles.  Bugs in my teeth, rear going numb, hanging on for dear life.  But, this is not really the case.  In truth, I love my husband.  My husband loves bugs in his teeth, rear not going numb because he is riding in the cushier driver's seat and being in the cushier driver's seat, he is the one actually causing me to hang on for dear life with his need for speed.

Because I love my husband...I ride motorcycles.   Because my husband loves me...he takes me to Hobby Lobby, Williams-Sonoma, Pier 1 and snores on my shoulder while I watch my Hallmark movies. We're both good sports like that.

I wish I could throw in a really cute story about my boys being good sports, too, and wrap up the blog for you right here.  (And my boys have been and can be really good sports...)

Unfortunately, I'm not always a good sport.  Neither is my husband.  Neither are my kids.  Neither is anyone else I know.  Sorry.

You see, there have been times I haven't been as happy for Carolyn as I should have been.  Like the time in fifth grade when Brad said he liked her and not me.  Or, the time she got an "A" on the Algebra test and I got a...well, not an "A."

And it's not all childhood-related stuff.  There have been times I have fought envy when I have seen others be extremely successful at something I'm struggling to accomplish myself.  I have sat at teachers' meetings and let my insecurities dampen my joy for the triumphs of those around me.

I have watched my child be passed over for a part, or a spot or a kindness, then fought feelings of resentment when I saw other children go to the front of the stage, or the line or the whatever. This doesn't make me a completely worthless human being.  It makes me a flawed human being who needs to remember a perfect God Who became a human being Himself.

And a really, really good sport.

Whenever I feel bad sport girl coming on...I get to Philippians 2 as fast as I can.  Or, as I like to call it, "The Ultimate Cure for Poor Sportsmanship."

I'm going to share a few verses...but, you really should read the whole thing for yourself.  Stick it on your mirror.  Memorize it. Share it, in a version suited for their age level, with your kids.  Here are verses 4-7...

"Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit.  Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of others.  In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:  Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant..."

THAT'S what a good sport looks like.  Kind of makes you want to go out and be the wind beneath someone's wings, doesn't it? 

Praying for all of your caves to be even more blessed than mine.  And I mean it.  And those last four words felt really good to type...