The middle of the season arrived before I could blink, and yet my bones weigh three times as much as they should – like I have been holding up the whole world. Sometimes, I just want it to stop spinning and let me get off the weekly merry-go-round of practice, junior varsity games, team meal, film, late-night coaching strategy calls, game night, and then more film, before the big football hand in the sky reaches down and gives my spinning world another good solid push so we will do it all over again. *Sigh
My kids only know one play to call – “Maahhhm!” On the rare occasion, their daddy is home and sitting in the living room, the only parent they call to cook, or find their phone, or settle a sibling quarrel is “Maaahhm!”
Is it bad parenting to say, “It was your daddy’s idea to bring you into this world. I was tired that night, too. Call him!”
Yeah – I thought so.
I love my coach and the thrill of every August ignites the fan in me. I am always ready to attack another season, be the coach's wife he deserves, the one all those blogs describe. I love my children – being their momma is the greatest title I have ever been given. But tonight, this morning, today, sweet Father, I am tired.
Bring my soul some rest. Let me sit at your feet and listen. Restore me. Create a right spirit within me, Lord. There are at least five more games left, and you know I want our team to make the playoffs. But thinking I am going to get through October and November right now brings me almost to tears -okay tears.
Real tears, God.
The season is what the season is – a religion and sacrifice all unto itself. I am never going to change the demands it places on my coach or me.
- Strengthen my resolve, Lord. Remind me that you chose me for a time such as this.
- When I speak calmly to the children I love, but who are screaming mercilessly at each other – tap me on the shoulder and remind me, your spirit never leaves or forsakes me. With you, I can calm them.
- When I forgive my coach again for failing to run the errand, come home on time, pick up some slack, however, I perceive he has left me alone, remind me of the countless times you have forgiven me and my own salty tongue.
- In the face of ignorance and hateful talk in the bleachers, remind me that you bless those who show mercy; then, enable me to hold my tongue and pin a smile between my cheeks.
- If this is my calling, to serve this coach and this season, then embolden me with your salt and light, and do not let my weary spirit darken your love for these men and athletes.
I am not alone
Lord, whether it is the pressure of trying to live up to last year’s undefeated season or the agonizing weight of yet another losing record, remind me that “kings and kingdoms will all pass away” but you are the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the lion and the lamb.
Be my hiding place, oh Lord, my rock and my Redeemer. Be my comfort. Be the only one that hears me scream in anger or frustration. Refresh my heart retelling me that we love, I love, my husband loves me - only because you loved all of us - first.
I may be tired and weak – but I am not alone. I know you are with me. You will never leave me or forsake me – even if I am in a little bitty town or a great big city – at the end of the earth.
Bless our team. Be with our children – those you gifted to us and those you have placed within our paths to love and serve. Preserve and protect our marriage. What sweet joy it is love my coach.
All of this, dear God, and two more small requests –
Can I just have one long, hot, steamy, bubble bath without any sweet cherub or a big over-grown eighth-grader calling…… “Maahhm!”?
And…is it okay if I pop in tomorrow night crying again? I might need a do-over.
Thank you, Lord.
Yours – one very tired, very blessed coach’s wife.