The Unseen King (Esther) No.13- Humble Celebration

GraceLife Sarasota

It was the summer of 1991 at the outdoor basketball courts at USF. Pastor Joe, 23 years old, was playing pickup with college players while a crowd watched from the bleachers. It was like that Ski-Lo song, “I wish I was a little bit taller…”—everyone came to see their guy dominate the game. This may surprise you, but I was by far the shortest and slowest person on the court. It wasn’t even close. The game was at a critical point—game point, in fact. My team had the ball, and our point guard, under heavy pressure, was forced to pass it to me. I could see the sadness in his eyes. A 6'9" guy, who I'd even seen play on TV, rushed out to guard me. I panicked, thinking he was going to run me over. So, in desperation, I just heaved the ball into the air. We collided, and I went sprawling to the ground. Then I heard a massive roar from the crowd. Someone even yelled, "WHITE BOY!" To my shock, my blind 30-foot bank shot had gone in. My teammates ran over, picked me up, and we celebrated. It was one of the greatest moments of my life. Have you ever experienced a victory or success so surprising and joyful that there was no room for gloating? A success so unexpected that even though you were part of it, everyone knew it was an act of God? You can’t take the credit, but you celebrate anyway. The Jews in Persia felt that same way. They celebrated a miraculous, unexpected reversal of evil, knowing it was divine deliverance straight from the hand of God.