Yard Lines or Riding the Pine

What if each day was a first down

and each conversation a well executed play?

What if forgiveness was called up

like a third string quarterback

and offences were pigskins

with strings attached?

What if what we said

we didn’t mean it,

and if we said we didn’t mean it

everything would be as it was

in the beginning.

No flags thrown.

There would be no riding the pine,

sitting like a judge on the bench.

There would be plays

and grass would be uprooted

and sweat would mix with the dirt.

Spittle would be placed over the speck

in our eyes and we would no longer walk the plank.

What if we were on the same team again

and offense wouldn’t be against each other

and our only defense would be ours, together?

The plays called again from the sideline

and we huddle-up, arms over shoulders.

We are in the back yard lines

set on scrimmage like boys with grass stains

and SpaghettiOs and hot dogs would

sit warm in our super bowls.

Ecclesiastes 4:12 reads

“By yourself you’re unprotected. With a friend you can face the worst. Can you round up a third? A three-stranded rope isn’t easily snapped.” The Message

 

 

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