I grew up in western Pennsylvania. You know what that means? I'm a football fan. People in Pittsburgh follow football like some follow a religion.
My father loved football. He'd watch two games at once while listening to another one on the radio. When his team scored, He was out of his seat cheering with every bit of passion within him. When his team lost, he had lots to say about it. Watching dad watch football was entertainment in itself.
I'm passionate like my father. I love the Steelers, but I love God more. Once when Dad and I had one of our spiritual conversations, he chastised me for being too passionate about my religion. We both laughed at my response to him, "Hey, dad, have you ever watched yourself watch football? If you can get that excited about a game, I think it is all right for me to get excited about God." He didn't dispute my statement.
Funny, how things change when you meet God face-to-face. Football becomes frivolous and God becomes fundamental. Dad received two weeks notice of his death. I suppose you could call it his two-minute warning. He didn't talk about football--he talked about Jesus. Before he died his eyes twinkled, he smiled, and he boldly lifted his hands to Heaven. Sort of reminded me of referees calling a "touchdown!" Jesus threw him a pass, Dad ran for the goal, and scored his eternal victory! Heaven has Steeler Nation beat and that is something to jump up and shout about.
Have a splashes of serenity superbowl Sunday!
Elaine
