Last Pick
How Draft Day with Jesus Works Differently Than on the Playground
When I was a kid, I played a lot of football. Not the organized kind with matching jerseys and postgame popsicles. Before travel ball for toddlers and all that craziness.
This was elementary school, recess football—just tackling each other in the dirt and thinking we were invincible.
My friends and I played constantly. Before school. At recess. After school. When we went to school football games, we played our own game.
And the first thing you did every time was pick teams: Step 1—call out who’s the best. “Okay, you two are captains. You need to be on opposite teams.”
Then it was predictable, like a train on its tracks. And everyone knew how it would end: with a couple of kids embarrassed as they waited to be the last ones picked.
That scene plays out every day on playgrounds and fields all over the world—with all kinds of sports.
There are people you want on your team and people you don’t. First-round draft picks…and the kids you label “no way.”
No way they can (fill in the blank). Run fast. Throw. Catch. Help us win.
And then every now and then… there’s a sleeper.
That’s the kid everyone underestimates. Until they make the ridiculous catch. Or chase down the “fastest kid on the planet.” And next game? They get picked earlier.
Hidden potential. Diamond in the rough. Underdog.
Stuck on the Playground
Here’s the thing. We don’t leave that way of thinking on the playground.
No way they’ll ever amount to anything.
No way they’ll turn it around. Be a leader. Go to college. Get a good job. Find someone to marry.
And in church, we baptize the same mindset in religious language:
No way that person could ever change.
No way they could live right. Be forgiven. Lead.
Jesus is picking His team and there’s just no chance they make the cut. They’ve got nothing to offer. They’ve made too many mistakes. They don’t deserve to be on Jesus’ team.
Or maybe it’s not them. Maybe it’s you. Are you getting picked?
Do you assume you’re obviously on the team—I’m a leader. I’m gifted. I give, serve, volunteer…
Or do you quietly believe, Jesus doesn’t want me. I’m no good, made a big mistake, keep messing up, don’t have anything to offer.
Either way, you and I are still on the playground living by the same script.
The last person Jesus should’ve picked
If anyone should’ve been “last pick” for Jesus’ team, it was a man named Saul.
Saul wasn’t just indifferent to Christians. He dragged men and women out of their homes and threw them in prison.
When persecution broke out in Jerusalem, he didn’t just shrug—he obtained legal paperwork to travel 150 miles to expand the persecution to other cities.
But then on the way to his next round of arrests, a light from heaven flashes around Saul. He falls to the ground. He hears a voice:
“Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4)
Not “my people.” “Me.”
Saul hasn’t just been attacking a group. He’s been going after the Son of God Himself. If there was ever a moment to expect judgment, this is it.
But instead of ending him, Jesus rewrites him. Into the greatest missionary to ever live. Into the writer much of the New Testament. Into the apostle to the Gentiles.
Into Paul.
But why Saul—and why so late?
If God was going to recruit Saul, why not catch him earlier—before the first Christian was arrested? Why wait until his hands are dirty, his record is stained, and his reputation is cemented?
Looking back on his story, Paul writes:
Though formerly I was a blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent opponent… I received mercy for this reason, that in me, as the foremost [sinner], Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience as an example to those who were to believe in him for eternal life. (1 Timothy 1:13, 15)
Why was Saul saved, transformed, and given a clean slate in this way? So that for the rest of history, when you and I start to think, “I’ve gone too far. I’ve done too much. This is beyond God’s reach…” God can point at Saul and say:
“Really? More than the church-killer I made into a church-planter?”
No one is beyond redemption.
Not the guy at work you’re convinced will never change.
Not the kid who’s burning their life down in slow motion.
Not the family member you secretly believe is a lost cause.
Not even you.
Saved but sidelined
For a lot of us, the “last pick” lie doesn’t just show up in who we think God can save. It shows up in how we think God uses the people He has saved.
We imagine two categories of Christians:
Starters – the obvious picks. Loud, gifted, visible.
Benchwarmers – Ordinary jobs. Ordinary gifts. Ordinary stories.
The Saul story blows that up.
Right after his encounter with Jesus and a few days of recovery, Acts says:
“Immediately he proclaimed Jesus in the synagogues, saying, ‘He is the Son of God.’ … Saul increased all the more in strength, and confounded the Jews by proving that Jesus was the Christ.” (Acts 9:20–22)
Immediately. Not ten years later. Not after a degree.
Jesus didn’t just save him from something; He saved him for something.
This is so important:
You cannot be chosen for redemption
without also being called into God’s mission.
There is no such thing as “saved but sidelined.” Every Christian is saved and sent.
When you feel like last pick
If you feel like the one nobody would choose, try this:
1. Rename the script.
Don’t romanticize last pick. Call it what it is—a lie that doesn’t survive the cross.
2. Serve where no one sees.
Jesus does some of His best work in people who serve without applause.
3. Risk it for the biscuit.
Take a step and see what God does. Invite someone to church. Pray out loud in group. Share your story with a friend. Sign up to serve instead of assuming they don’t need you.
When you treat others like last pick
Saul’s story also confronts the way we quietly write people off.
So ask yourself:
Who have I decided is “too far gone”?
Whose name makes me roll my eyes instead of pray or rejoice?
Who do I instinctively keep off “my team”?
Then:
1. Advocate for a “last pick.”
Put some of your relational energy behind someone others overlook—a coworker, a new believer, a kid in student ministry.
2. Honor the unseen.
Write one text, one email, or have one conversation this week that explicitly thanks someone who works behind the scenes for what they bring.
3. Refuse gatekeeping.
Before you ask, “Do they fit my mold?” ask, “Where do I see the Spirit at work?” Start with “yes.”
Get in the game
Imagine Jesus standing behind the bleachers with you.
Captains are set. Names are being called. Your stomach is in knots.
You’re waiting to see if you’ll be ignored. Overlooked. Picked out of obligation.
And then He does something you’re not used to.
He calls your name early.
Not because you’re the fastest or the strongest or the most impressive.
But because He chose you before you ever stepped onto the field.
And then He points at the kid everyone else avoids—the Saul in your world—and calls their name too.
That’s the team He’s building.
So if you feel like last pick?
Lift your head. Your name was already called.
And if there’s someone you’ve quietly left standing alone?
Go get them. Tell them the truth:
In Jesus’ kingdom, saved means sent and no one is beyond redemption.
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