a beautiful game, a simple concept.

Some call it soccer. Others call it football. Some have christened it the “Beautiful Game.”

Whatever you call it, one thing is undeniable: this game has power.

And I don’t just mean a physical kind of power; one that can cause the ball, from a perfectly-struck free kick, to spin and dip as it sails beyond the outstretched fingers of the goalkeeper, ducking beneath the crossbar and whipping the back of the net.

No, no. I’m talking about a kind of power that can change the world.

A game? Change the world? How can a game change the world?

Take a moment to watch this clip and you’ll see what I mean.

There may be no one who can better attest to the power of sport than the man who witnessed a game unite his horribly segregated nation in the mid-nineties.

The man was Nelson Mandela, and the nation was the same one where 32 teams are now competing for soccer’s most coveted prize: South Africa.

Those who have seen the movie Invictus know just what I’m talking about. The story is worth repeating, but to avoid any spoilers, I’ll just give you the one-sentence synopsis: a divided nation became one as they rallied behind their national rugby team.

After witnessing this power first-hand, Mandela—who was also influential in South Africa’s bid to host the FIFA World Cup—said the following of the power of sport:

Sport has the power to change the world, the power to inspire, the power to unite people in a way that little else can. It speaks to people in a language they understand. Sport can create hope where there once was despair. It is an instrument for peace, even more powerful than governments in breaking down racial barriers.

Sadly, the country of South Africa still struggles with segregation and racial tension today. Years of forced segregation (apartheid) have cemented certain beliefs in many of the country’s citizens. But if you’ve turned on the tube recently, you have seen white and black supporters standing side-by-side, cheering on their beloved Bafana Bafana.

A simple game is creating unity.

Apart from South Africa’s racial problems, the continent of Africa, as a whole, is experiencing a multitude of crises. Poverty and disease make surviving each day a challenge, the aids pandemic continues to affect an extraordinary percentage of the population, and civil wars fought over race and religion have orphaned children, widowed mothers, and created soldiers of young boys. Yet I can only imagine that the six African nations represented at the World Cup have provided unspeakable relief from these daily discomforts.

A simple game is creating hope.

No country on earth is without its problems. Yet even here in my hometown of Garner, NC, thousands of miles from the current soccer epicenter of South Africa, the game is resonating waves of change. Nightly, white, black, and Hispanic athletes leave their segregated neighborhoods to come to the most colorful place in town: the soccer field.

A simple game is making people look twice.

We have all witnessed the power of this game. But at the end of the day, it’s just that: a game. Football will never attain any supernatural status, and a soccer ball will never be anything more than leather and stitches inflated with air. The real power is within us all.

So if something so simple as a game can build hope and create unity, break us from our stubbornness and hatred, and cause us to rethink our stances on social and racial issues, then maybe our differences aren’t as great as we all once thought.

If you liked this blog, check out these links:

http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/2010/05/24/105940842/soccer-savior
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/02/world/africa/02soweto.html?ref=barry_bearak
http://www.beyondsport.org/download/hJBlairNV.PDF

if we can't live together...

Along with millions across the globe through the past six years, I have been captivated by ABC's hit series Lost. One of the main things about Lost that always kept me coming back for more was my desire to know the answers. What do the numbers mean? What is the hatch and how did it get there? Who are the others? Why is the island so special? Who is Jacob?

The show's six seasons of plane crashes, plot twists, and polar bears finally culminated into one action-packed series finale this past weekend. The finale answered many questions, but, in typical Lost-fashion, left plenty to ponder.

After watching the finale, the obvious questions to be asked are: Is everyone dead? Are they in heaven? Do they have two simultaneous lives taking place? These are questions that I doubt the writers of the show could even answer. I feel like the ending is purposely ambiguous, so each viewer can create his or her own "perfect ending." I won't bore you with my own explanations and theories, but I do hope to briefly explore one of the series' most intriguing and central themes: destiny vs. coincidence.

On September 22, 2004, the day Oceanic flight 815 crashes on an island in the south Pacific, two clashing characters emerge as important figures: the practical Jack Sheppard, a spinal surgeon from LA, and the ethereal John Locke, a man mysteriously healed of his paralysis after the crash. Locke, who is in no hurry to leave, instantly begins to claim that fate has brought them to the island, while Jack desperately mends wounds and searches for rescue.

The duo's disagreement is most bluntly stated in season one when Locke tells Jack, "You are a man of science. I am a man of faith." The irony is when, in the final episode, this dialectic is flipped on its head as the man in Locke's body attempts to break fate, while Jack claims that it is his destiny to save the island and admits that Locke was right about everything.

There are many opinions in the argument of fate vs. coincidence. "People break into two groups when the witness something lucky. Group number one sees it as more than luck, more than coincidence. Group number two sees it as just pure luck, a happy turn of chance" (Signs). I don't know if we each have a destiny or if we're all floating around accidental like on a breeze. I think maybe it's both. Maybe both is happening at the same time" (Forrest Gump).

I am not here to argue one way or the other, or even to take the middle road, I am simply suggesting that perhaps it doesn't matter.

Let me explain myself.

Despite one's beliefs--or lack thereof--and regardless of their motivations, maybe the most sincere thing that any person can do is to act selflessly and love those around them.

In spite of all the head butting between Jack and Locke, didn't both men essentially want the same thing? Think about it. They had different ways of carrying out their ideologies, but besides a few momentary lapses of selfishness, each man wanted nothing more than the physical and emotional well-being of the entire camp. It's like taking two separate roads to get to the same destination.

What I am trying to say is that when a person acts out of pure love for those around him, the only thing he will ever find is peace.

Numerous examples of this selfless love can be found in Lost and most often, they involve death. Now that I think about it, nearly everyone who ever died in the show did so in an attempt to help someone else. Boone dies when trying to radio for help. Charlie drowns after disabling the frequency jam. Locke is killed in his attempt to bring the others back to the island. Sayid sacrifices himself in the submarine. Jin and Sun die hand-in-hand. And finally, Jack dies after restoring the light to the island.

All of these characters had different views of destiny, but each had the same motive. And in their final moments, each displayed the ultimate act of kindness.

And so whether our friends at last found themselves in heaven or a parallel universe, there is no doubt that they were in a place of community, love, and peace.

"This is the place that you have all made together so that you could find one another. The most important part of your life was the time that you spent with these people. That's why all of you are here, nobody does it alone, Jack. You needed all of them and they needed you."

I think it's the same way in real life. When we put the needs of others before our own, we will find ourselves in a place of peace. Either in this life or the next, peace is the product of selflessness and love.

So that's my two cents about one of the greatest series of our lifetimes. I'd love to hear your opinions on this show that we all love. Thanks for reading!

patience: the prized virtue

So this is my first blog ever. I'm writing from an American Airlines napkin (well, the draft anyway) on the way to Miami from RDU.

Thanks for taking the time to read this. I apologize if I ramble or my life is just utterly boring. I write not merely for leisure, but for clarity, as I sort things out in my own head. I can offer little wisdom, but I invite you along for the journey where I expect to encounter more questions than answers. Questions though, can often solve far more than answers ever will.

This particular leg of the journey will begin in the metropolis that is Grifton, NC and hopefully lead us over the Gulf of Mexico to Tegucigalpa, Honduras (though I have my doubts we'll ever get there).

So after a meaningful week of mission camp in Eastern NC, our team prepared to cross continents and cultures. Saturday, which was to be our first quasi-day off in a long time, was laid aside for traveling back to Raleigh, doing some laundry, and catching up on some much needed sleep.

After a delectable DBL 1/4 #er w/ cheese (double quarter pounder with cheese), we returned to the stubborn sound of our van's ignition. Blown starter. Luckily, a friend of a friend knew a good mechanic in the area who put new meaning to the term "grease monkey." Yes, he literally resembled a primate.

A couple of hours and a new starter later we were back on the road and bound for Raleigh. While doing laundry back at my home in Garner, Joey and I could not figure out the dryer. It literally took us 2 1/2 hours to dry one load! Thanks to the dryer miscue we didn't get to the hotel that night until 11:00, just in time for about 5 hours of sleep (not much less than the norm).

I had to pinch myself several times to make sure I wasn't having a terrible dream. "Really? Did you just say our flight is delayed 5 hours?!" It wasn't a dream, this setback would mean we would miss our connecting flight in Miami. There was no way around it, we wouldn't be getting to Honduras that day.

The provided food vouchers settled my hunger and the carpeted floor and warm blanket made for a semi-comfortable bed which helped pass the 8-hour airport wait. Perhaps Miami would not be so cruel to us.

These past couple days have taught me a thing or two about patience. Those of you who know me well know that patience is not a virtue of mine. Yet in the constant waiting, delaying, and being in circumstances completely beyond my control, I seem to be finding a peace I haven't felt in a long time. In situations like these, I'm finding the best thing to do is to remain positive; no amount of complaining is ever going to make things any better. I'll spare you the French, but stuff happens. That's life, and the truth is that's where we spend the majority of it: in situations beyond our own control. And if we (myself included) are going to be the people we say we are--portraying generally accepted qualities of peace, happiness, and patience--then mustn't we portray them when we least expect to?

So here I am, writing from my 10th-floor hotel room overlooking the runways at Miami International Airport. This day has been challenging yet rewarding at the same time. Tomorrow morning we will board a plane (fingers crossed) bound for the capital city of Honduras. In a land where time is not much of a concept and things change with the wind, I'm sure today's lesson in flexibility and patience will be of utmost importance.

Thanks for taking the time to read this. Once again, I apologize if I bored you. I hope you can all be blessed in some small way from reading this. If it was a waste of your time, let me know know and I'll stop. Have an awesome day (or night)! God bless.