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You reap whatever you sow.
-- Galatians 6:7b

Even as cancer continues to ravage her body, Nancy Meider's personal relationship with Jesus as saving Lord enables a joy to radiate from her soul, through her eyes, and into the hearts of all who are blessed to know her.

We've talked about many things over the past several months. We've been silly on occasion, serious when necessary, and direct at all times.

That's how it becomes when time spent far exceeds time left. It's easy to distinguish the important from the incidental when each breath could be the last.

When I leave Nancy and encounter folks so majorly obsessed with such minor details, I want to scream, "Get a life before it's too late!" But I bite my tongue and keep it in because I've learned it's better to talk to God about some people than to talk to some people about God.

Having grown up in a church that outlawed Santa, fearing the funny fat man in the red suit would detract from the reason for the season -- a suspicion that I have never shared! -- I am always amused by Nancy's Santa collection. But I'm not the proverbial church lady or guy who feels God has given her or him some kind of right to poke a nose into somebody else's private idiosyncracies. So I never asked until I realized I better ask before it's too late. Nancy's simple explanation came with a soul-full smile: "Ever since I was a child, I've always liked Santa because he's so jolly. I think that's what God wants for us."

She's right.

Jesus said, "I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete" (John 15:11).

I know I'll be presiding at a memorial service for Nancy much sooner than her family, friends, and I would wish. Certainly, we will see grieving tears as testimony to God's goodness expressed through her. Undoubtedly, we will witness to her resurrection and the promise of eternal reunion. And we'll beg our Lord's comforting consolations for those remaining.

We'll also ask why God took Nancy from us instead of recalling a few cranks, kooks, and cruel characters. God knows the passing of some would evoke the refrain, "Ding! Dong! The witch is dead!" So we'll complain more than a little bit about God's not consulting us first for more appropriate alternatives.

Of course, we would never begrudge Nancy the faithful's reward of that perfect place of personal peace where "there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain" (see Revelation 21). For as David A. Redding reasoned, "Anyone who feels sorry for a dead Christian, as though the poor chap were missing something, is himself missing the transfiguring promotion involved" (Getting Through The Night, 1972).

But we'll still wonder why someone as good and positive and jolly as Nancy had to go home now.

I think of a familiar story.

While contemplating eternity, two buddies entertain the possibility of golf courses in heaven. One dies, returns to his friend, and says: "I've got some good news and some bad news. The good news is there are golf courses in heaven. The bad news is you tee off tomorrow morning."

Faithful folks like Nancy don't believe in bad news. While this life is good with all of its affections and most of us aren't in a hurry to exit, the life to come is even better. It's heavenly. That's the ultimate assurance of Christianity.

But before our time comes and it will come sooner or later with Nancy welcoming us or Nancy being welcomed by us, it's not too early to take inventories of our lives.

How will we be remembered?

We will be remembered.

It has been suggested we live good and positive and jolly lives so the presiding pastors don't have to lie at our funerals.

It's the best use of the time that's left for us.

And our time on earth is not endless. Or as Nancy likes to say, "Make the most of life while it lasts."

She knows.

She hopes we get the message.

The message -- let's say alarm clock! -- is ringing loud and clear for me these days.

My AARP card just came in the mail.

My sons joke about my hairline and waistline.

A friend who was strolling down the fairway with me asked if I had considered something called Grecian Formula 44.

I went to a school function and the mother of one of my son's classmates nauseatingly exclaimed, "Oh, Daniel, how good it is to see you bringing your grandpap!"

I guess people will think my youngest son Matthew has brought somebody from the home when I show up with him at school.

I'm thinking about using a cart.

And I just found myself saying to a seminarian who was lamenting the lack of time to get things done: "You've got 42 years to go. I'm eligible for retirement in sixteen years."

I was not comforted.

But I have been challenged as well as reminded by all of the above that I don't have forever to reach my goals.

It's been said, "Someday everybody will return from the cemetery but you."

Well, I'm determined to beat the hearse to my goals -- not frenetically but slowly, steadily, and solidly.

Whenever I'm tempted to postpone my quest, I recall this story from Tales of a Magic Monastery (1981):

I had just one desire -- to give myself completely to God. So I headed for the monastery. An old monk asked me, "What is it you want?"

I said, "I just want to give myself to God."

I expected him to be gentle, fatherly, but he shouted at me, "NOW!" I was stunned. He shouted again, "NOW!" Then he reached for a club and came after me. I turned and ran. He kept coming after me, brandishing his club and shouting, "Now, Now."

That was years ago. He still follows me, wherever I go. Always that stick, always that "NOW!"

What are you waiting for?

Will you still be waiting when it's too late?

Now!

You may have heard about the man who always complained about the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in his lunch box. A friend asked, "Why don't you just ask your wife to make a different kind of sandwich every now and then?" The man replied, "I make my own lunches."

We make our own lunches.

The point is we can't reach our goals without working to reach them.

Ben Hogan often said, "Every day you miss playing or practicing is one day longer it takes to be good."

Every day we're not praying and working to reach our goals is one day longer it will take to reach them.

Every day we're not praying and working to be His in all things at all times is one day longer it will take to be His in all things at all times.

What are you waiting for?

Will you still be waiting when it's too late?

All of the above reminds me that we don't have forever to reach our goals.

That's why champions in every walk of life work so hard every day!

You may have seen Lee Trevino's commercial for Top Flite golf balls. He holds up a ball and says, "This ball will improve your game." Then he adds, "Of course, it will really help if you hit it 500 times a day."

By the time my son Ben was a senior in high school, it was obvious that our Lord had given him the gifts for athletic success. So I wrote this to him:

How To Become A Champion

Our Lord gives you the raw material:
smarts, speed, size, and the support of family,
friends, coaches, and school!

Only you develop the raw material
into a finished product.

If you fully develop what our Lord has given you;
you are a champion!

If you become God's best for your life,
you are a champion!

A champion does not do what is expected.
A champion does more than what is expected.

A champion runs the extra mile, lifts the extra weight,
and asks how she or he can develop God's best for her or his life.

BE A CHAMPION!

You will be glad you did.
And the world will be better for it.

My dad likes to say, "The harder you work, the luckier you get."

The truth is work lessens the need for luck.

Or as Jack Nicklaus advised, "Learn the fundamentals of the game and stick to them. Band-Aid remedies never last."

Paul put it this way, "You reap whatever you sow" (Galatians 6:7b).

I think of it as the practice-performance equation. Simply, practice equals performance. Specifically,

Bad Practice = Bad Performance
Mediocre Practice = Mediocre Performance
Good Practice = Good Performance
Better Practice = Better Performance
Excellent Practice = Excellent Performance

The upside of the practice-performance equation is we get out of life what we put into it.

It's true for golf, football, bowling, tennis, art, academics, music, and everything else including faith.

Or as Tim Johns told me may years ago: "The holier we are, the happier we are. If we want to be happier, we must become holier."

Ben Hogan concluded, "The ultimate judge of your swing is the flight of the ball."

Just as the quality of our practice is measured in golf by the performance recorded on the scorecard, the quality of the practice of our faith is measured by how we react to the ups and especially the downs of life.

Again, Nancy Meider knows all about that. She knows all about the downs of life.

But she also knows how to triumph over them.

She rises above them with Jesus.

It's the attitudinal difference between those who walk the talk and those who just talk. Those who just talk say, "It's raining. I think I'll exercise tomorrow." Those who walk the talk say, "It's raining. I'll put on rain gear so I don't miss a day of exercise."

Jesus explained (see Matthew 7:24-27):

Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act of them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell -- and great was its fall!

Before he died, Tony Lema said: "I cling to a few tattered old virtues, like believing you don't get anything in this world for nothing. This is one of those eternal verities that will be around long after I've sunk my last putt and gone to that great nineteenth hole in the sky."

It's the practice-performance equation.

And when it comes to the movement from our existential to eternal relationship with God, we could say practice makes perfect.