I was not a good running back when I played high school football. I was small, not very fast and lacked a killer instinct on the field. My little brother was an excellent running back when he played. He was short, but muscular and fast. He also had a talent that was crucial for the position. He had peripheral vision.
When he ran, he knew where he was on the field. He knew that the yardage needed for a first down was 6 yards away. He knew that he had two lead blockers, and there was a guy coming up on his left side that he needed to avoid. He had vision on the field, and I did not.
When I placed the helmet on my head I instantly felt as if I was at the bottom of a hole. I couldn’t see or hear with any clarity. When I was given the ball my brain would shut down, and I simply ran. I ran frantically and I ran straight until I was taken down… which usually very quickly.
In retrospect, I feel like I lived much of my life in a similar fashion until recently. Just run. Run straight ahead without thinking. Just run.
When I graduated high school I really didn’t have a plan for my life. I can remember visiting Texas Tech with my parents. We were in a giant assembly hall for a freshman orientation. When the group started breaking up into major classifications I didn’t really know where I needed to go. Art or computer science? It wasn’t clear to me. I felt like I was at the bottom of a hole, and wasn’t able to see or hear clearly. I didn’t have a vision for my life, so I did the easiest thing at the time by defaulting to a community college and working in a screen printing shop. I was handed the ball and I ran until I hit an obstacle. There wasn’t a plan because I lacked vision.
Drifting soon became a way of life. For years I simply did the thing that was expedient. The opportunity that was right in front of my face was the opportunity that was taken. There was not a broad purpose in mind, there were simply small steps. One by one.
I beat myself up for this lack of vision for years. I felt guilty. When my friends were graduating college I was working a dead end job at Kinkos, because I had dropped out of school. I was simply taking the step in front of me while others seemed to be following a map.
I have recently found peace about those days. When I look back, I can’t think of much that I would change. The product of those years is now a very comfortable little life. Each aimless step that I took back then actually led somewhere… and this is a good place. I really feel like I was living on massive amounts of grace and that my steps were being guided, even if I couldn’t tell.
What has changed now is that I feel like I have vision. I am seeing the steps before I get there, and this feels nice. I bet that I’d be a better running back today too… except for the extra 20 years and 20 pounds. That’s another story.