Of all the simple words we use everyday, the one that stumps me the most is a four letter word. Some consider it a curse word. Others, unfortunately, have put it at the top of their "most used vocabulary list". It's the word quit.
The King James Version of the Bible translates one of my favorite verses this way:
Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong. Let all your things be done with charity. (1 Cor 16:13-14, emphasis mine)
In this context, "quit" is translated from the greek word andrizo (Strong's #407). It means "to make a man of" or "to play the man."
We use the word today when we say "I quit." It means the opposite. It means, "I give up." "I'm not strong enough to finish." "I wimp out." "I have nothing left."
Let me share three illustrations about the word "quit" and its definitions.
#1: Stu Weber observes the following in Four Pillars of a Man's Heart:
Imbedded in the countless dark cobblestones of Broad Street in Oxford, England, is a memorial to God and the lives of two men. Twenty-four lightly colored stones form a simple cross on this thoroughfare of the western world's most prestigious university city.
On a crisp October day in 1555, two men stumbled out the doors of dreary Bocardo Prison. The morning sunlight was like a thousand October mornings before. This day, however, was a day destined to stand out among the thousands. These two men, refusing to recant their personal faith in Jesus Christ, would die a terrible death that morning. They would be burned at the stake.
What crossed their minds, that fine autumn day, as they lived out their last moments on earth? We can't know all their thoughts, yet, we have more than a few stones in the pavement to mark their passing. We have a few of their words as well. We know that as they approached the stake, Hugh Lattimer turned to Nicholas Ridley and said, "Be of good cheer, Ridley. Play the man! We shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace ... as I trust shall never be put out."
I stood on this very spot a couple weeks ago. I wish I could've lingered there. Perhaps I could've soaked up some of their heart and courage.
#2: Life in the Slow Lane
I ran Cross Country and Track in high school. One year, to stay in shape over the long winter months, I swam on our school's team. I was assigned to the slow lane because I needed help with a flutter kick. My runner's legs wanted to go around in circles, not scissor at the hips.
As one of the slow lane people, I didn’t get to swim in meets very often. One day, our coach chose me to swim the 100m breast stroke for our team. I was pumped. It was my best stroke because the kick is so much like a runner’s kick. Because my legs were strong from running, I had a great kick and the opportunity to be competitive. My excitement soared when my dad showed up. My dad was my hero, mentor, personal coach, and best friend. When the gun sounded, I got a great start, two strokes under the water and I was up. At 25m, I was with the leaders, I had a good turn and a powerful push off the wall. At 50m, I still had a chance to place in the race. As I turned, I swallowed some water. I pushed hard, but by the wall at 75m, I was having trouble breathing. I hit the wall and tried to turn, but was choking. I stopped, let my feet hit the floor of the pool disqualifying me from the race and coughed my head off. I looked into the stands to see my dad. He looked concerned, but after I stopped coughing, he looked disappointed. And he left.
I never talked with him about this day. He had good reason to be disappointed in me. I quit. I didn’t persevere. I could've struggled the last 25m and come in last and he would've been proud of me. Because I didn't quit. Because I had finished.
(Blogger's note: I always have and will continue to give him the benefit of the doubt about that day. I’m sure he had somewhere to go. Our swim meets were during his basketball season. It was painfully difficult for him to be there. He never missed a Cross Country meet, Track meet, or even the miniscule events of life. He bent or broke his schedules more times than I can remember. I've always considered it a precious sacrifice for him to be there that day.)
I quit the race. Would I have been a stronger person if I had fought through the last 25m to finish? We’ll never know. Was it easy for me to quit that day? Or was it hard? I don’t know.
Bear Bryant, the legendary football coach for the University of Alabama, once said, “The first time you quit, it’s hard. The second time, it gets easier. The third time, you don’t even have to thing about it.”
So, what about after three HUNDRED quits? How do you get back? The answer is easy, but hard to accomplish. You stop quitting. You push through.
#3: Death Crawl
Many of you have already received emails and RSS feeds about the movie "Facing the Giants". I don't mean to be another to hammer you about it. However, I can't commend this movie strong enough. Go. Take your children. Take your spouse. Spend the money. And if you can go this weekend, do so to help the cause of great movies.
I love this movie because of Brock's story. Watch the trailer and listen for his name. Then go to the theater and watch his entire story unfold. My desktop is a still from one of his scenes. I look at it everyday and remind myself not to quit.
I went to the premier a skeptic. I came out a huge fan of Alex Kendrick, the creator (and lead actor) of "Facing the Giants". I’ll be honest, the acting is stiff and amateurish at points, but the amazing screenplay overshadows the poor acting. It is funny, touching, and will draw you in. It is brilliantly edited for timing and pacing. The plot is predictable, but no more predictable than “Hoosiers”, “Rudy”, or “Mighty Ducks”. The orchestral score is primarily synth-generated, but not intrusive. It serves its purpose of helping your emotions soar. I saw “Superman Returns: IMAX 3D” and "Facing the Giants" during the same week this summer and enjoyed "Facing the Giants" much more.
GO see the movie. Watch Brock's story. Then, "quit you like men".
