Originally written on August 17, 2019, edited
My friend invited me to come along with him to play basketball at the local YMCA this morning with a couple other guys. I accepted, but I knew I might struggle since I hadn't played for a very long time (not that I've ever been known for my basketball skills anyway).
They figured that out really fast.
I probably shot at five or ten percent, and quite a few of the multitude I missed were air balls. Having the desire to not let my teammate down, build rapport with my new friends, and appear at least barely athletic, I was self-conscious. I did make small improvements during our games even though I was clearly the least skilled of the four of us.
Thankfully, my ego recovered quickly from the damage it received. I realized, surprisingly, that it was good for me. As someone who has historically cared too much about my reputation, it was healthy for me to fail in front of other people. By experiencing failure, I recognized that it really isn't that bad.
I suddenly had a drive to practice basketball, which I did not expect. There appeared a newfound motivation to try, fail, and try again in the expectation that I would become (relatively) excellent in my shooting ability. I remembered how I got out every single round in handball in second grade, but I kept getting back in line until I became a champion in the elementary school sport.
Fast-forward an hour later, I'm finishing a pork quesadilla at Qdoba and I have this impulse to tell the workers that Jesus loves them. I left, went out to my car, and prayed for help since I didn't know what to say without it being awkward. I then went back inside and did what I purposed to do. I told the two workers that that God really loves them.
They didn't necessarily have a negative response, but it definitely wasn't the positive one I was looking for. The male worker didn't seem to react much at all, and the female worker thanked me with what appeared to be an uncomfortable courtesy smile. Knowing that the situation hadn't gone as I'd hoped, I unconfidently asked if they needed prayer for anything, but based on their lack of response I don't know if they heard.
I told Jesus when I got back in the car that I had shot another air ball.
But before I prayed that, I noticed a middle-aged man eating food by himself. He appeared to be occupied reading, but I still thought of asking if I could pray for him. I didn't do it, though. I was conscious of the perceptions of others who would see, including the workers I had just talked to. Even though I am not obligated to walk up to every person, I sensed that I should have challenged my fear of people in that moment.
The whole thing reminded me of my basketball experience earlier. When I talked to the two workers, I may have shot an air ball. Yet with the other man I let my perceived failure prevent me from shooting at all.
Instead, I think we should all adopt the mentality I described earlier – try, fail, and try again in the pursuit of excellence. Because even after my supposed "air ball", I learned a lot about how to sink a shot later. For example, I learned that creating an uncomfortable situation doesn't require me to lose confidence and become sheepish. I know how to be more effective for every future shot I take.
I never would have learned that had I not taken the shot.
And do you know what? I am completely fine after the "rejection" of those workers (which I somewhat expected anyway). As I said earlier, by experiencing failure, I recognized that it really isn't that bad.
Keep taking your shots. Don't be afraid to step out there and take risks. In the same way that shooting mechanics take time to develop, tactful and effective evangelism takes practice to sharpen. Not to mention, the results aren't even in your control – Jesus did it perfectly and got crucified.
A final thought to consider is that your Gospel air balls may actually end up in the basket, because Jesus is excellent at alley-oops. And if you're feeling guilty that you failed to take a shot like I did with the man at the table, remember that we're in a team sport. Pray to the Coach to send one of your teammates to shoot it in your place.
Keep launching those air balls for Jesus. With practice and his coaching, you'll start draining swishes!
