The “will there be a season” question seemed silly in March because, well, it was March. But somewhere between the cancellation of Spring football and the news today, the question felt like a weight pressing on my chest.
It’s okay if you’re mourning the loss of something you’ve worked really hard for (like so many of our coaches are currently doing). You’re allowed to mourn.
Our family is a coaching family. I will never again question that. If and when sports go back to normal, I am not saying I won’t complain when coach isn’t home to help force my 4-year-old into the bathtub, but I will know what it’s like on the other side, the side without sports.
We will go back to our regular routines at some point and are setting ourselves up for failure upon that return if we abandon all sense of normalcy now. We also truly don’t know how long social isolation will be our new normal, and how long can we really sit around and binge-watch anyway?
They were the first ones to run up to daddy after a game and after a loss they were the only ones who could put a smile on coach’s face. They were the first ones to run up to daddy after a game and after a loss they were the only ones who could put a smile on coach’s face.
After wrestling with these lies in increasing measure over the course of these changing seasons, I’ve finally heard the truth so clearly: this is a season. This is a season, and I am still serving, still supporting, just in a very different capacity.
I pride myself in the fact that I can take care of everything, but sometimes it’s nice to know you don’t have to do it all; and it’s a great way to make memories with your friends and loved ones before you leave town.
What can I do instead of clouding my judgment with more mental clutter and endless to do lists? I can breathe. Have grace. Pray, love and be present. If it takes me 4 months to get my house in order following the season, then let it be. It is easier said than done, I know.
So if my peace is dependent upon my own performance, my own success, my own character, my own children, my own circumstances, then I will NEVER FIND IT. Because none of those things will ever be up to par. None of those things will ever feel ENOUGH.
My whole family had been sick with a stomach bug. With four kids, this is the only thing they have shared with each other—and finally they shared it with me. I went to work feeling exceptionally queasy and left my daughter home with Coach. I felt awful until I came to the cafeteria and ...