In My blood

My blood has been infected with something for 30 plus years. My dad gave me an orange shirt with a tiger paw on the front when I was a wee one, and it was then that the love for Clemson began. On Saturday afternoons, we would cook steaks on the grill. We lived on a lake, and just inside the door to our boat house was a radio. WFBC would broadcast the TigerTailgate show and the velvet voice of Jim Phillips would tell the story of mighty Tiger battles with UGA, MD, UNC, NC State, and on the last Saturday of the regular season....the Gamecocks. In the backyard I would play with my nerf football, throwing the perfect spiral, running and catching the game winning pass. If I dropped it, then the defense was offsides...and I tried again.In 1981, my dad and I sat around a TV, and watched Clemson beat Nebraska for the national Championship. It was chilly that evening, and our propane stove in the corner was firing. We called it our Butt stove, as we all took turns warming our buns, not leaving until our legs were "medium rare."In 1983, my father died. The butt stove was still burning, but not much joy was to be found. The games continued in the backyard, but sometimes I would quit before I became the hero. My mom tried her best, and did a great job, but all attempts were feeble, and the gash within my soul would not stop bleeding. I did not choose my parents. For some reason, out of their love for each other, I came to be. I did not choose Clemson as my team, it was chosen for me...and I am thankful. I even married a lovely lady from a family of Tiger grads. Each day, our son goes to school with an orange backpack emblazoned with a tiger paw. This reminds me of heritage, history, identity, and spirituality. Jesus says in John 15, "You have not chosen me...but I have chosen you. We have something in our blood...he is our lifeforce, our defense, our reason for being. The church is something BIG, far bigger than the sum of it's parts, and I am glad the Christ chose me. What about you?