I promised myself I’d never let that happen again, that even if I knew I’d only be somewhere for a short time, I would trust that God had planted me there “for such a time as this” and jump in with both feet and a whole heart to the new life he had for me, in that exact place, for that exact moment.
It seems like an eternity right now, but they will one day not cry when coach is actually around. They will go to him when he walks through the door, instead of clinging to you.
When I walk out of my room, the bright light stings my eyes. Mom asks why I’m up so early but she already knows the answer. It’s Friday. I’m too excited to sleep on Game Days. “Like father, like son,” Mom says. She gets me. I love Fridays.
They’ve eaten hundreds of meals from a concession stand or from a drive-thru after cheering for the boys of the communities they’ve been a part of, while their dad drives the team bus home.
They’ve eaten supper at the table alone with mom, while dad counseled or drove a player home because, in that moment, that player's needs were greater than their own.
My boys have grown up, waiting for the moment they could participate.
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.
Now with four, seven and under we had a little time to experiment. For us this is what I’ve found works…
#4."Love rules. The purpose of discipline isn't to punish but to correct."
Yes, football and being a football family requires physical demands and emotional commitments from everyone involved. There are so many lonely dinners and difficult bath times. There are so many rushed labor-day cookouts and daddy-less trick-or-treats. There are so many tears from kids who miss their daddies -- and occasionally from mamas missing them too. Because there may not be crying in baseball, but believe me, there is crying in football. A lot of crying.
But most of those tears are the good kind.
But my Heavenly Father knew I needed this. He knew I needed to serve without receiving a “Good job” or a “Thank you so much.” I needed to perform without someone to impress. Without expectation of a compliment. He wanted me to learn to serve just for the sake of serving others and serving him, not self-serving.