Man Down on the Field

This morning I was thinking about the football player injured during the first play of the BYU Blue versus White scrimmage game.  I'm sure many, especially my students were anxious to get on with the game.  After all, watching the drills didn't grab their attention too much and they wanted to see action.  However,  I was a little disturbed when everything didn't just stop until the player received the necessary medical attention and could be safely escorted off field.  Instead, they just moved the football action further up the field and kept playing.  When the injured player finally got up (I think he hurt his leg or something) I clapped, but not many noticed.  They were fixed on the game action.  I know this was only a scrimmage and I guess injury protocols must be different than in official games, but it still made an impression. It came on the heels of a discussion I had with a coworker about her brother's experience with college ball and how they are often expected to sacrifice their bodies for the team.  Like dedicated, loyal soldiers fighting for a cause bigger than themselves-willing to put it all on the line.  They might get injured, but it is expected ; it's what they signed up for.  And if they don't want to play, there are hundreds of other potential want-to be warriors willing to take their place.  They are totally replaceable and ultimately...the game goes on, even if it's just down the field a little ways from the injury site. With a birds eye view from the cheap seats, I was taking in the "bigger picture" of football and trying to figure out how it relates to the grand scheme of things.

Before I get all judgmental, I made a similar callous call this week with my students while skiing.  I  recently had an experience watching an unnecessary ski patrol toboggan ride for a student with extremely low awareness suspecting a serious injury.  For example, he rated his pain level at a 10 (like an alligator had bitten off his ankle) in front of ski patrol (who has to take them at their word) and then rated his pain level at 0 about an hour after we returned to campus.   So when dealing with the perceived injury THIS week, I was a little jaded.  Not only had I witnessed the low speed crash but was directly involved as the girl fell on me and torqued my own knee.  I knew she probably hurt something but would probably be OK.  (Note to self, do NOT do an assisted snowplow with larger students.)  I gave her support and attention but ultimately I encouraged the other students to keep skiing around us on the bunny hill and practice their skills.  Keep going-keep playing-keep moving forward-get back to campus safely.  I didn't want to stop, call ski patrol, do the body bag toboggan ride, spend an hour filling out paper work etc. Ultimately, like the other student, after a while back on campus, she was "all better."  Which is fortunate for everyone.

I know when I get hurt physically or emotionally, I expect the whole world to stop-to suspend all normal activities-and just wait until I am back on my feet again.  Maybe I expect my own gallery of friends and family to applaud me-or at least notice that I am doing better.  But in many cases, though my life stops, theirs does not and sometimes no one really notices I am temporarily out of commission.  I  have a few key people, my medics, who help, who care, who lift me up.  My personal coaches and leaders encourage me to do what it takes to get back in the game-who want give me opportunities to contribute to the team. I don't want to just sit on the sidelines.  I want a chance to do something big-to make key plays-to make a difference in the outcome of the game.

I appreciate how we can all be like medics (or ski patrol) rushing in response to a "man down on the field."  Last night Elder Eyring spoke to the women of the church encouraging us to comfort others who need help in "carrying burdens of grief, loneliness, and fear...The Savior described the way He helps lighten loads and gives strength to carry them when He was about to be crucified. He knew that His disciples would grieve. He knew that they would fear for their future. He knew they would feel uncertain of their capacity to move forward. So He gave them the promise that He makes to us and to all His true disciples:

 “And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever; "(John 14.16

This Comforter enables me to feel that my Savior is here with me when I am the man down.  I guess that's why I was touched when watching the latest church social media clip for Easter #becausehelives-especially as the words repeatedly flashed across the screen"HE IS HERE." His presence gives me "the capacity to move forward."  As I try to comfort others, I can invite the presence of the real Comforter to help the man down.  And with His presence we can take action to get back in the game- to get up- to RISE, or in BYU traditional fight song, "Rise and Shout."