Champions

If you have been following my blog much at all, you know a few things about me. You know I love horses and dogs and kitties. You know I was born with wanderlust running through my veins, and that thanks to both my parents, I am kind of a bum. One thing that you probably have not picked up is that, also thanks to my parents, I am a Packer fan.

It’s one of those things that just can’t be helped. When that game is on the TV every Sunday afternoon for the entire season and your dad is swearing at every miffed play or giving the dog a high-five when there’s touchdown, it kinda sticks with you. (Just like the Milwaukee Brewers, but those stories will have to wait now til summer.)

So last Sunday, just one week ago, the Green Bay Packers met the Pittsburgh Steelers in the Superbowl. I admit it. I cried when the Pack scored first and I cried when the Steelers blew it on fourth and long with seconds left in the game, giving the Green and Gold another championship.

In addition to winning, the Packers have another tradition, which you already know if you follow the Pack at all. During training camp each summer, fans come down to watch them play. When practice is over, the players will pick a kid from the crowd and ride their bike back to the locker room. What a thrill it must be for those boys and girls, what an honor.

Is being a champion just about winning? Is it about being the greatest? Maybe it’s more about greatness.

Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said, “Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and the servant of all.” He took a little child whom he placed among them. Taking the child in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the one who sent me.”Mark 9:35-37 (New International Version, ©2010)