I recently recalled a comment one of my colleagues made during a meeting. I was joking about my age and remarked that I was no doubt well into the fourth quarter of my life. He said with a smile “you may be in sudden death overtime! I laughed and agreed. Later I thought about how accurate that exchange could be. One big change in my reaction to that possibility is I no longer dread the prospect of my time ending.

One of my favorite authors, Randy Alcorn, gets right to the heart of the matter.

“Many Christians dread the thought of leaving this world. Why? Because so many have stored up their treasures on earth, not in heaven. Each day brings us closer to death. If your treasures are on earth, that means each day brings you closer to losing your treasures.”

I believe so many of my treasures are in heaven. My dad, my mom, my nephew Dean, and my beloved grandmother are among the many people who have gone ahead of me and whom I long to see there. My daughter, Katie, is waiting for me. So many dear friends have transitioned to eternal life with Jesus. What will that experience be like?

It brought to mind a moment from my television directing career with the Texas Rangers that might offer a glimpse of my heavenly reunion someday. It was a sports director’s dream moment. The Rangers had many “walk-off” wins during my tenure, scoring the winning run in the last at bat at home. When a game is over, both teams walk off the field but with very different body languages.

In this particular game against the Los Angeles Angels, the score was tied in the bottom of the ninth with two outs on the board. Rangers’ catcher Geovany Soto was at the plate. I was in a TV truck that had dozens of monitors filled with camera shots, graphics, and replay sources. I orchestrated the broadcast from my seat in front of a huge bank of camera monitors, communicating by headset to camera operators what to do next. I selected a shot from the monitors in front of me, and the technical director pushed a button that put it “on the air,” instantaneously sending it into your home.

I scanned the monitors, focusing on Soto’s intense concentration. The Angels’ closer was trying to send a tie game into extra innings. The Ranger players were hanging on the dugout rail, hoping that Soto would come through. The count went full. Two outs. And then it happened. The ball was driven deep to left field. The Ranger players started to jump up and down as the ball headed toward the stands, then left the park. Pandemonium ensued inside the park.

Ranger players Elvis Andrus, Adrian Beltre, and others leapt over the rail and sprinted toward home plate to greet the hero of the moment. Soto rounded third, flipped his helmet in the air with joy, and sprinted toward a throng of teammates encircling home plate. They were smiling and waiting anxiously for Soto to get “home” so they could celebrate. As he neared home plate, Soto made a gigantic leap and disappeared into the dogpile of teammates. What a picture. That is the drama of sports. Even the apostle Paul used sports as an analogy for spiritual things.

I do everything to spread the Good News and share in its blessings. Don’t you realize that in a race everyone runs, but only one person gets the prize? So run to win! All athletes are disciplined in their training. They do it to win a prize that will fade away, but we do it for an eternal prize. 

1 Corinthians 9:23-25

I reflected on that passage and the thrilling finish of that Rangers-Angels game. As electrifying as it was, that victory is nothing compared to holding the eternal prize that will not fade away when I finish this earthly race. I began to imagine my heavenly homecoming and how it might resemble that “walk-off” moment. I saw myself rounding third and heading toward all of the loved ones who had gone ahead, the joy of their faces compelling me to run faster. I jumped into a dogpile of dear friends and family who had shared my journey. When I finally emerged from the ecstatic group, I saw Jesus. He hugged me warmly. I was safe at home. 

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