With a Subtitle: Why growing older does not mean God is finished using your life.

A brief Excerpt: Michael Jordan’s refusal to concede becomes a powerful reminder that age, obstacles, and giants do not end our calling. By faith, we can still finish well.

The Author is: Anne Hope

Michael Jordan and the Power of Staying in the Game

The Electricity of the Chicago Bulls Era

I lived and worked in Chicago during the era of Michael Jordan, and there are some things you never quite get over. The electricity in the city wasn’t just in the skyline. It pulsed through the streets, into the restaurants, across office break rooms, and straight into the United Center, where the Bulls played their games.

Getting tickets was never easy and never cheap. But they were worth it. When Jordan stepped onto the court, you could feel a crackle in the air. Conversations paused. Beverages hovered on the way to your mouth.

You didn’t just watch Jordan play. You sat on the edge of your seat, like something sacred was unfolding in real time.

His presence took up the whole court. Not just physically, but psychologically. The Chicago Bulls were never out of it when he was playing.

Down by ten? Didn’t matter. Two minutes left? Plenty of time. There was this unshakable belief that as long as he was still moving, still breathing, the story wasn’t over.

The feeling of electricity was no different, even when watching the game from a sports bar or someone’s house.

When the Game Is Not Over Yet

Remembering Jordan’s Refusal to Concede

I remember one night vividly. We were packed into a friend’s living room. I sat on the floor because there weren’t enough chairs. All eyes were locked onto the television screen, which was way before big, flat-screen TVs.

The Bulls were trailing late in the fourth quarter. Someone muttered, “Well, that’s it. They’re out of it now.”

But I didn’t believe it. None of us really did. Because we had seen this before. And sure enough, Jordan did what only Jordan could do. He took over. He dominated. He owned the last part of that fourth quarter. Game over. Bulls win.

Years later, I heard a story that made me laugh out loud. In recent years, a reporter asked Jordan if those Bulls teams from the 1990s could beat a team led by LeBron James, who at the time was the modern-day powerhouse.

Jordan didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” he said.

The reporter pressed, “By how much?”

Jordan smiled and replied, “Two or three points.”

The reporter seemed surprised. “Why such a close game?”

And Jordan, with that signature mix of confidence and humor, said, “Well… most of us are almost sixty now.”

It’s a funny story, but it sticks with you. Because underneath the humor is something deeper.

Even Legends Age, But Purpose Remains

You Are Still Here for a Reason

Even legends age. Even greatness gets wrinkles. But here’s the thing I found fascinating. That edge, that fire, that refusal to concede the game? It doesn’t have to disappear.

And that’s where the story turns toward us. Because unless we’re dead, we’re not done. You’re still here for a reason.

God’s Calling Does Not Expire With Age

Biblical and Historical Examples of Finishing Strong

Somewhere along the way, we start to believe the lie that life has an expiration date on usefulness. That there’s a season for striving, and then a long, slow slide into irrelevance. That we are meant to be crossing towards the final sunset. Coasting, shrinking, stepping aside as we near completion of the circle of life.

But I don’t think God meant for it to be that way from the stories I’ve read. I think about Moses, who didn’t even begin his most significant work until he was eighty. Eighty! Most people are organizing photo albums at that age, and he’s leading a nation out of captivity.

I think about Michelangelo, painting the Sistine Chapel ceiling into his seventies, lying on his back, creating something that would outlast centuries.

I think about Colonel Sanders, who didn’t launch his now-famous fried chicken empire until his sixties, after a lifetime of setbacks and closed doors.

Laura Ingalls Wilder didn’t publish her first book, Little House, until she was sixty-five years old. She became a well-loved author.

Fauja Singh started running marathons at eighty-nine as a way to overcome grief.

Anna Moses, perhaps better known as “Grandma Moses,” started painting when she was seventy-seven because her arthritis prevented her from knitting. Her paintings of rural life in America gathered national attention and continue to be coveted.

What happened to that kind of living?

Measuring Life by Possibility, Not Limitation

The Scoreboard Still Has Time Left

Somewhere along the line, we start measuring our lives by limitations instead of possibilities. We begin counting years like they’re strikes against us instead of chapters still waiting to be written.

We say things like, “I’m too old for that,” or “That’s for the younger generation,” or “My best days are behind me.”

But what if they aren’t? What if the scoreboard still has time left on it?

What if we started thinking differently as we grow older, realizing that the callings in one’s life do not expire. They change. They morph. They expand.

It’s far too easy in this day and age to question our usefulness. It’s time to ask ourselves if we are living with purpose. Are we pursuing dreams and goals that provide meaning to our lives? Are we actively looking for ways to enhance the quality of our lives?

I’ve come to realize I’m never too old to dream and pursue those dreams. I refuse to believe that time disqualifies me from expanding my abilities. And I’ll never believe you age out of the desire to try new things and better yourself.

Do I have giants in front of me? Of course. I’m not naïve enough to think there aren’t obstacles.

Giants are real. They show up as health challenges, as losses, as uncertainty, as that irritating voice that whispers, “You’ve missed your chance.”

They show up in a culture that idolizes youth and sidelines experience. They show up when we compare ourselves to people who seem faster, smarter, younger, stronger, or more talented.

The question has never been, “Are there giants to overcome?” The real question is, “How will I face the giants?” And the giants are always changing, coming in many forms.

Facing Giants With Faith Instead of Fear

Choosing Courage Over a Smaller Story

Will I face them with fear, or with faith? Will I fixate on the obstacles, or will I look for the opportunities hidden inside them?

I want to finish well. And finishing well isn’t about fading quietly into the background. It’s about staying in the race, even if your stride looks different than it used to.

It’s about showing up. It’s about saying, “There’s still something here for me to do.”

I don’t need to prove anything to anyone these days. I find joy in surprising people. And I emphatically refuse to live a smaller story than the one God has written for me.

Finish Well With Courage, Wisdom, and Faith

Give Me That Mountain

And maybe that’s the invitation for all of us. It’s not about reliving our glory days or competing with younger versions of ourselves.

It’s about fully stepping into the season we’re in, with everything we’ve learned, everything we’ve endured, and everything we still carry.

Because the truth is, wisdom has weight. Experience has depth. Faith has muscle memory. Aging holds surprises. And those things matter.

So no, I may not be dunking from the free-throw line like Jordan anymore. (At five-foot-ten, I never could dunk, but I could touch the rim.) I may not move as fast, recover as quickly, or bounce back as easily.

But I can still take the shot. I can still enter the game. And I can still choose courage over fear.

So stay in the game with me. Don’t start heading to the locker room just yet. Dig in. Look at the opportunity in front of you. And when you see the giants, don’t turn away.

Say, with whatever strength you have left, “Give me that mountain.”

Even as we age, even as we acquire wrinkles, let us never ever lose that edge, that fire, that refusal to concede the game or our dreams.

Finish well, my friends. Have no regrets.