Olympics!

I'm not sure what I'm going to do when the Olympic games are over. I'm not even joking. In the short time since the opening ceremonies in London, my family has logged in many hours watching athletes compete for the Gold. The entertainment value of the games only dims when compared to my family's conversations during the events.

            The tension of a backstroke swimming race was shattered when Elise blurted out, "I can't believe we're all sitting around watching people swim backwards."

            When a member of the US gymnastics team stepped out of bounds during her floor exercise, our disappointment quickly turned to confusion as Lauren explained, "Those Chinese girls won't step on the line. They're Communists."

            Geoffrey, who remains quiet during the Olympics, and throughout life, was unimpressed as the announcers boasted of a rider in the Equestrian event. "So who gets the medal? The rider or the horse? The horse is doing all the work!"

            I managed to avoid the Olympic spoilers Geoffrey sought. He knew the results of most of the competitions before they were shown. Michael usually did, too, except for one day. It was the day Michael Phelps was swimming for his record-breaking 19^th Olympic medal. My husband asked that no one inform him of the results of the race beforehand. He spent the day without the news, radio, or internet. He should have just avoided Elise because she walked into the living room soon after the race started and said, "Is this the one he wins and breaks the record?" My family will never, ever, not in a billion years be allowed to work as sports commentators.

            I have an immense appreciation of these world class athletes, I thought as I finished off a bowl of ice cream after another gym-less day. I hold my breath when they swim, gasp when they fall, and lean forward as though my efforts will help them to cross the finish line victoriously. But although they are the best of the best, they are not perfect. While I anxiously await the judges' scoring of the performances, I thank God that He does not judge like the judges for the Olympics.

            It must be frustrating for the Olympic athletes to have trained so long and worked so hard, then judged on a performance of just a few minutes, or even seconds. I'm grateful that God is with me everyday, constantly aware of my actions, thoughts, and even my motives, then judges me accordingly. If I fall, I don't get a deduction like the gymnasts. I have the opportunity to get back up and go on, not even getting penalized if I ask for help.  The important thing is that I admit my mistake and try again. It isn't always easy to stay balanced on a narrow path, but with my God at my side, all things are possible. I also find such peace in knowing God will not choose only one winner. I am judged independently, therefore there is no need for me to compare myself to anyone else.

            What am I going to do when the Olympic flame is extinguished? I may not be sure of my life after the Olympics, but I am quite certain of life after death. In the words of 1 John 5:13, "I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God so that you may know that you have eternal life." We are all capable of winning the Gold. In fact, in Heaven, the streets we walk on will be paved with it.

Ronny may be reached at rmichel@rtconline.com