The gymnasium was hot and crowded when we arrived. It wasn’t that the crowd was so terribly large, but that the gym was so terribly small! It was, after all, a fifty year old Junior High School. Half a century ago, architects never imagined that any sporting event that began with the words Junior High would attract more than a couple of gangly kids in braces who had missed their ride home. But times have changed.
Scanning the tiny section of bleachers, we located our family and begin tiptoeing through a maze of hyper-animated young people. It seems our 
seats were in the midst of the student cheering section, and I was pleasantly surprised to find the students politely accommodating. While maintaining the fevered pitch of their cheers and with their attention completely focused on the athletes, they made way for us by leaning first to one side and then another as we stumbled our way upward. At just the right moment, a particularly polite student would scoot over just enough to reveal tiny footholds that allowed us, like ancient Andean Sherpas, to continue our assault toward the summit.
These were not adult friendly bleachers, my friends! They were steep with deep foot wells that made it impossible to use them as stairs. The only way up was to stretch from one seating board to the next. For the first few levels I turned to offer Marilyn my hand, but by the third level the constantly moving -students filled in after each of my steps and left her to create her own path. It was every man for himself… or in this case herself. As our hands pulled apart, I reached back toward her in a dramatic display of chivalry, silently bidding her Godspeed. “I’ll see you at the top!” I shouted back over my shoulder as I soldiered on.
Now a solitary climber, free to improvise, I grabbed at the startled students’ shoulders, having determined it was more honorable to offend one student at a time than to fall backward and crush the entire cheering section. Steadily— level by level, step by step—we moved toward our family, whose looks of concern had become painfully obvious. Like spectators at a ping pong match, they twisted one way and then the next, vicariously anticipating our next move. Finally, we pinnacled! High fives all around!
Yet one last challenge remained. Slowly, we began the turning process—carefully positioning our backsides in order to blindly wedge ourselves into the ten-inch spaces reserved for our twenty-five-inch behinds.
I couldn’t help but reflect how my life is so much like my attempt to climb those crowded bleachers. In my efforts to gain a better perspective on life, I have to turn my back on the players and the playing field and focus on a higher place. When the action of this life gets hectic, when it seems to have reached a fevered pitch, I’m learning to climb to a higher place. I hope to encourage you, dear readers, to always look for a higher perspective—a perspective that can only come from the One who is higher, the Heavenly Father. He, like my family, has His eye on you as you make your way through the crowd. He deeply desires to provide a better place for you above the roaring crowds.
This small portion of Scripture speaks to this subject. It confirms that God, through His Son, Jesus Christ, has personally empowered your church for the purpose of lifting you to a higher place with Him.
“The One who climbed down is the One who climbed back up, up to highest heaven. He handed out gifts above and below, filled heaven with his gifts… working within Christ’s body, the church, until we’re all moving rhythmically and easily with each other, efficient and graceful in response to God’s Son, fully mature adults, fully developed within and without, fully alive like Christ.” From Ephesians 4:10-13, The Message
So, while life is playing out all around you, remember how important it is to find a higher perspective. I believe there is no place better equipped to help you with that than your local church—I could be wrong, but they probably won’t make you sit on those funky bleachers.
Read Ron’s column, Simple Faith, each Saturday on the Faith Page (page 3) of the Lancaster Eagle Gazette, or visit www.lancastereaglegazette.com.