Listen and Execute...

"When you're late you run!" These were the famous words uttered, and never forgotten, by my high school football coach, Coach Cullivan. That statement has served me as both a warning and faithful instruction for life. That was many years ago and I can still hear his scruffy voice echoing through my memory banks. Coach Cullivan was a very memorable character... In between spits of tobacco he had a lot to say about football and life.  He had been our high school football coach for many years and he was respected, it seemed to me, by everyone around our small town. As a player on his team you listened and executed his instructions... you did not talk, you listened and executed.
My younger brother, Jeff, and I played together on the high school football team. We are separated by 19 months in age, and especially in the whole football uniform ensemble we looked very much alike. I was a fullback and Jeff was a quarterback. During a scrimmage game, before our season opener (and wearing our white practice jerseys with no numbers) Coach Cullivan yelled out from on the sideline "HARRIS." With helmet on, chin strap buckled, and mouth piece in place I ran up beside Coach Cullivan. He placed his arm around my shoulder pads and gave me the next play for the offense to run. As the referee placed the ball on the line of scrimmage, blew his whistle, and gave the signaling motion with his arm to start I was already in the huddle giving the play.
But there was confusion in the huddle... where was the quarterback? It was then I realized coach had sent in the wrong Harris!  Coach, seeing the confusion out on the field, spitting his tobacco in disgust, scream out onto the field, "Harris, what's the problem?" It was then my brother made his amazing appearance beside the coach from on the sideline. Coach looked at him and then turned toward me with his head tilted to one side and a furrowed brow... there was a momentary pause in the space time continuum and everything seemed to go still and quiet. Then coach exclaimed toward the heavens in a very loud voice, with his head shaking back and forth "Harris, get off the field!" Coach didn't have to say it twice... I booked it toward the sideline, meeting my brother half way as he hurried onto the field. We gave a passing glance and I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head to communicate "It's not my fault!" That mistake never happened again.
My devotional this morning dealt with God producing the harvest from the sowing of His word in people's hearts. We don't have to understand fully how God operates in people's lives, but we must be faithful to listen to His plan and execute His commands. And somehow God will cause the necessary growth. But we must be willing to get off the sidelines and enter the game...