Speaking of dreams, Mom and I got to watch one come true Sunday morning. Until then, Swiss tennis phenom Roger Federer had won 13 major titles, one short of Pete Sampras’s record, and every major at least once except for the French, the only major played on the slower surface of clay. For the last 4 years, Spanish tennis phenom Rafael Nadal, possibly the greater clay-courter ever, had beaten him at the French. The first year Nadal knocked him out in the semis followed by three consecutive years in the finals. Sportswriters and tennis fans routinely suggested Roger as the best tennis player ever, but his lack of a French Open title always added a question mark to that coronation. Without it, one could argue that any of the five players who had won all four majors deserved the “best ever” crown. The French was the thorn in Federer’s side, the victory he wanted more than any other. Last year when Nadal beat him for the third time in the French final, Federer wept.

This year, thanks to a shocking fourth-round exit by Nadal and typically brilliant and consistent play by Federer, the Swiss legend had what we thought was his best opportunity to win the one title he lacked – by beating the man who had stopped Nadal. Perhaps no one in the world was rooting for the other guy, except maybe his own mother. Although I worked until 7am and the match started at 8am, I drank some coffee and stayed up to (I hoped) witness history with Mom. Federer started off hot and never looked back, giving outclassed Swede Robin Soderling a memorable lesson on how to win a major final. We cheered. Roger cried. I posted the happy news on Facebook.

Especially a day after seeing Up, Federer’s amazing feat and career got me thinking about the whole realm of human endeavor. On one hand, I know that our lives here are just a blink in eternity, a “mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes” (James 4:14). The most important goals of our lives should be to love God and love people (Mark 12:29-31), not to win games or money or titles. So why do I scream until hoarse and jump up and down at a Stars game Saturday night, only to find myself too self-conscious to stand alone, sing too loudly, or raise my hands in worship at church on Sunday night?

On the other hand, God intentionally gave us our abilities and opportunities, and I believe he is pleased when we use them. As Olympic gold medal sprinter Eric Liddell said in Chariots of Fire, “I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure”.

Collectively the human race, despite all its many varieties of darkness, wields a tremendous amount of God-given talent. Athletes like Federer, musicians like Pavarotti, artists like Da Vinci, businessmen like Buffett, and inventors like Edison have used their gifts to enrich us all. Although we regrettably have a tendency to idolize the people who possess great gifts rather than the God who provided them, I am truly grateful to share this planet with such amazing talents as Roger Federer.