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Based on an actual event in the ministry of the author. The Ultimate Submission by Josprel Chris had a temper. It flared up only when he felt he was wronged. When that happened - look out - he lost it! He tried to control it; that wasn't it. He just inherited this terrible temper that his mother claimed came from his paternal grandfather. Nevertheless, Chris didn't like it; it caused problems for him. Like the last softball season for instance. Chris was a star player on the high school team. During the second game, he whacked out a triple. It was a close one, and Chris slid toward third base, arm stretched toward the pad. He knew his fingers had touched base before he was tagged, but the umpire called him out anyway. And Chris lost it; wow, did he loose it; one of the worst times in his entire sixteen years! His calling the umpire a blind old bat was bad enough, but two players had to hold him off the man. Thrown off the team for the rest of the season, he almost was expelled from school. Only his "First Honors" standing saved him. There were other times too, though none as bad as that one. His temper impacted his relationship with everyone. He always was being told to get it “under control.” That was easy to say - but he lived with it. Worst yet was his relationship with René. Her family had moved to town last year, and they were faithful church-goers. At first, she dated him regularly, but not now. He never had vented his temper on her, but she witnessed it in action. For René, the final straw had been the incident with the umpire. Her words to Chris had been, "I enjoy your company so we can talk, but no more dates until your temper is submitted to God. I'll pray for you." René’s ultimatum devastated Chris, however he understood it. He didn't like himself after he blew up. Why should others? After his umpire incident, the student counselor said he made people feel as though they were "walking on eggs" when they were near him. Something in Chris' background caused the problem, the counselor claimed. Did he wantto speak to a psychiatrist? No, thank you, Chris declined. There was nothing in his background causing his temper except his grandfather's genes. In that case, nobody could help him. Anyway, his parents were great people. His brothers and sister had no blowups, and their upbringing was like his. That proved it wasn’t his upbringing. Instead, his grandfather’s genes had chosen Chris to inherit the temper his grand-dad once possessed. That made the genes responsible, didn’t it? Flabbergasted, the counselor dismissed him. ***** The softball season would soon begin and Chris was worried. A repeat of last season was unthinkable; he had to talk to somebody. That Friday night, after youth meeting, René advised him to speak to Jim, the youth pastor. "He's helped other kids. Let's ask him," she prompted. “Naw, he told me he wants to talk to me before I can join the church team." "Will you talk to him?" "Naw, I know he thinks I'll cause problems." "Can you blame him? The church team plays other church teams. Even people who don’t attend any church come to see the games. What would they think, of our church, seeing you yelling and fighting during a game? Pastor Jim has to think of that." Chris stared at his feet. "Your not telling me anything I haven't told myself. I don't blame him. If I were him, I wouldn't let me play either,” he dejectedly responded. "Then talk to him!" "I don't know what to say." "Do it anyway, hard head!" Chris was quiet, struggling to convince himself to do something he didn't want to do. Finally, standing up resolutely, he said: "O.K, let's go ask him!" René's face brightened into a wide smile. "Great," she exclaimed, "let's go!" Jim was already waiting at Burger Heaven when Chris arrived. They ordered and sat down. After asking the blessing, as they ate, small talk was their topic. Then Jim asked, "How may I help you Chris?" Studying at his burger, Chris remained silent. Scolded for his temper so often, he found it difficult to speak of it. Jim waited. "Well, ahh...," Chris began. "Well, Pastor Jim, ahh... ahh... it's my temper," he blurted. "What about it?" "Sometimes I really loose it. Like last year, when I was kicked off the team and almost expelled from school." "I remember." "Well, I'm playing again. Coach is already on me about my temper. I just know I'll blow it!" "What can you do about it?" Jim asked. "René told me to submit it to the Lord." "Have you done so?" "I've prayed." "Did you submit your temper to the Lord, when you prayed?" "I try to control it." "But did you submit your temper to the Lord?" Chris was growing agitated. He felt trapped. Anger tinged his tone. "Pastor Jim, I told you I try to control it!" "Does that work, Chris?" Chris looked sheepish; he knew it didn't! "Why do you avoid my question, Chris?" Deep in thought, Chris nibbled at his food. Suddenly, as though struck by a bolt of realization, he exclaimed, "You know what, Pastor Jim? I think I've been fighting this all alone!" "What makes you think so?" Well, I never submitted my temper to the Lord. I thought I had to deal with it!" "And what do you think now?" "I think I should let Him deal with it. Will you pray with me?" "Sure will!" The two met several times after that, usually after Chris' softball practice. One session especially impressed Chris: Pastor Jim recalled an illustration the senior pastor once used of an alcoholic who had turned his life over to God, but just couldn't kick his habit. Returning home from work required his passing the bar he frequented each Friday, where he drank away most of his pay. The Friday after he surrendered to God, he tried walking past, but failed. He entered the bar. After sobering up, he was devastated Wasn't God suppose to deliver him from his habit? The next Friday was a repeat performance. Only, that day, he crossed to the opposite side of the street and tried praying his way past the bar. Again, he failed! After the third Friday’s failure, he knew drastic action was needed. He felt he must prove to himself and to the devil that he meant business about not entering the bar. The following Friday, as he approached the bar, he dropped to his knees. Clasping his hands as though in prayer, he lifted his eyes heavenward, and crawled on his knees past the bar, praying. He went home sober! The next Friday several of his former drinking buddies were waiting outside the bar. Now, came a greater battle! Would it be his pride, or would it be his Lord? Again, he fell to his knees. Despite the jeers of his old cronies, he repeated his desperate crawling, with the same result. And, never again did that man touch another drop of liquor. "You see, Chris," Pastor Jim concluded, "he gave God the ultimate submission. He refused to let pride defeat his commitment. Loss of temper is rooted in pride. Our pride is wounded, so we retaliate." Chris understood. But he didn't think he could ever go public like that guy did. ***** The school team was doing great. It was playing its final game before the play-offs. Chris was controlling his temper; his sessions with Jim had paid off. René was dating him again. For Chris, everything was fabulous. The opposing team was good, the game close, fast moving. By second inning Chris got the bat. After winding up, the pitcher burned in a precise sizzler. Whack! Into the catcher's mitt. "Strike!" bellowed the home plate umpire. The second pitch went wide. "Ball!" With a jarring thud, the bat connected with the third pitch. The ball arched high. If not caught, it was a sure triple - a possible homer! It wasn't caught, but as Chris rounded toward third, the outfielder scooped it, and sent it to the baseman. Chris went to ground, sliding in and touching base with no time to spare. It was close! Chris was tagged, but even the baseman apparently thought he was safe; he just tossed the ball to the pitcher. As Chris prepared to take base, to his chagrin, he heard, "Yer OUT! Yer OUT!” Turning toward the voice, Chris recognized the infield umpire; the one he had called a "blind old bat". The man also appeared shocked. He recognized Chris and backed away, motioning with his thumb for him to vacate the base. Seeing Chris' face flush, even the baseman backed off. Chris' explosions were notorious, and he wanted no part of this coming one. "YER OUT!" the umpire repeated, and Chris' rage mounted. Fists clenched, he was seeing red! This umpire had it in for him, he told himself. Then, deep within him flashed the words "ultimate submission." He knew they were intended for a time such as this. The spectators - especially the infield umpire - were stunned as Chris sank slowly to his knees, hands clasped, eyes lifted skyward, as though in prayer. As he knelt, a hush descended over the field, continuing even after he rose to his feet. Nervously, the umpire again stepped back as Chris moved toward him, right arm extended. Gripping the man's hand, Chris shook it. "O.K. Ump, I'll go." Stunned, both the umpire and the baseman stared at Chris' retreating back in slack-jawed perplexity. However, Chris was at peace, his temper subjected to God through THE ULTIMATE SUBMISSION. -30- © Joseph Perrello (Josprel) josprel@yahoo.com
Article Source: http://christian-topics.info
Josprel is an ordained minister, whose stories and articles appear in print and online. He currently is authoring two novels, "Beloved Apostate" and "Kanfal."
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