Warriors

I always knew NFL players were BIG but I didn’t really know how big until Pat and I tried to squeeze ourselves into an elevator with four San Diego Chargers this weekend. To all you fans who would have known who they were, I extend my humble apologies. I don’t know. Besides they were in suits and ties without helmets. Quite a different look from the warriors padded, taped and made up for the fight on the field.

Funny thing is, I had just gotten off the shuttle with another warrior. An apologist raised in South Central LA by a mother who was a devout Buddhist. He could have passed for one of the linebackers: right color, right size and a voice like thunder. But he was trained in a different type of warfare. He could face down any challenger who dared dispute the credibility of the Bible and leave them trembling. For those of us who were privileged to hear him, Voddie Bachman left us cheering and knowing we are the champions after all.

As I checked out of the hotel, on my way home to my own arena, I realized that while it had been exciting to rub shoulders with those who have attained honor in their sport, it was even more exhilarating to immerse my spirit in the teaching of giants who will live forever.