“It’s open,” Russ called, in response to the sound of his doorbell.

In walked Jessica. No surprise there. She’d visited every weekend since his injury.  She walked over to his chair, pulled the remote from his hand, and clicked off the TV.

            “I was watching that.”

            “Were you? Or were you staring at the screen feeling sorry for yourself?”

            Russ glared in Jess’ direction. “What happened to the sympathy?”

            “It’s been a month since you got home from the hospital, and you’ve been sitting in that chair staring at the TV ever since. The time for sympathy is over, and the time to kick you in the rear has begun.”

            Russ tensed. “Do you have any idea what I’ve lost? I was in the prime of my career. I don’t understand why God would take that away from me.”

            Jessica’s voice softened, and she dropped into the chair across from him. “I know how important playing ball is to you. But maybe that’s part of the problem.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “All that time on the road, the nights in hotels, the money, the women throwing themselves at you…”

            “Yeah?”

            “Do you really think that’s the best way to live life for God?”

            Russ rolled his neck. “People looked up to me. I had a platform. Now they just feel sorry for me. Who wants to hear from a washed-up athlete who can’t play any longer?”

            “The people who understand.”

            “Oh, and who are those people?”

            “The people who aren’t rich and famous and travel the world. The people who have dreams but have had to deal with disappointment. Most people never got to do what you did.”

            “It’s just not fair.”

            Jessica laughed. “You’re right. It’s not fair. Have you been back to the old neighborhood lately?”
            Russ shook his head. “Of course not. I got out of there as soon as I could. Got Mom out of there, too. Why would I ever go back?”

            “To remember where you came from. You think those kids aren’t worth anything because they haven’t been able to get out?’

            Anger flared. “What are you trying to say?”

            “I’m saying, you still have a lot left to offer.”

            “I’m in a wheelchair, Jess. The doctor said I’ll never play again. I may never even walk normally again. What could I possibly have to offer?”

            “Hope.”
            “How can I offer hope when I have none?”

            “What kept you going all those years when we were young?”

            “The dream of getting out of the neighborhood by being a basketball star.”

            “So, it was hope. What else?”

            “What do you mean?”

            Jessica studied Russ’s face. “I guess I should say who else?”

            “You mean Trey?”

            “Yes, I mean Trey. Trey who coached you, Trey who believed in you, and Trey who taught you about God. Where would you be without him?”

            Russ’ head swam. “You’re right. I haven’t called him in a while.”
            “You know, he’s still back in the old neighborhood.”          

            “I know. I never understood that. A guy like that could’ve moved out years ago.”

            “You don’t think he’s staying for a reason?”

            Understanding dawned. “For kids like me.”

            “I think you have a story to tell, Russ. Give those kids hope. No, they’re not all going to be basketball stars, but they all have something to offer. So do you.”

            “When did my baby sister get to be so smart?” Russ asked.

            Jessica gave him a sly smile. “Lots of things happened in the world while you were off in your own. I’m sorry this happened to you, but it’s nice to have you back.”

            God, thank You for always offering hope, no matter how bleak things may look. The world is not how we imagined it would be, and many of us struggle with what we have lost. Help us to use the resources You’ve given us for Your glory, whether it is as simple as a phone call to lift someone’s spirits. Please help us to remember our blessings and not focus on the “might-have-beens.” In Jesus’ name, amen.