April is soccer month here. I say it is soccer month because the season is literally contained in the month of April, with two nights a week dedicated to games.
My husband and I are soccer players. We were at least. We still try, and will continue to try until our kids are old enough to school us. Which, in my case, could be any day now. We are also coaches.
I coach the U6 boys team on which my son plays. Three years into it and I have a basic idea of how the season will begin, as well as a general idea of how it should end. So, when we got into practice the other day, I realized that the best way to keep the boys' attention was to have them learn as we played a game. 7 v. 1. I might not be all that I once was, but I can still take 7 kindergartners and preschoolers.
My fancy footwork got me through some tight spaces. 7-ish (some boys get distracted) pairs of feet chased and kicked around me. I saw an opening and struck the ball toward the space, just to clear it out of the mob.
I struck it right into a kindergarten face.
Right into it. Lit. Him. Up. It was like in one of those comedies where some kid is the victim of an adult's irresponsibility. Feet in the air, the poor kid flew.
The horrified mommy inside me gasped! I yelled his name. "Are you ok?!"
"Uh-huh." He nodded his head and was up like a rocket, on his feet chasing the ball.
I was obviously more damaged by the incident than he was. I asked his mom later if she happened to see her son take it in the face. "Yeah." She shrugged it off. Apparently he bounces back from injury quite easily.
So I have a new hero. He'll be six years old this summer.
There are times to fall prostrate, broken before the Lord.
Then there are times to jump to our feet and get back into the game.
I'll be honest. I make my injuries out to be a pretty big deal. Someone "offends" me and it really just tears me up. And when I should get on with life, I choose to sit in the grass and cry. Maybe not actual tears, maybe just words. Maybe just "venting." Yeah, more often I choose to "vent" about the problem than pray to the Only One who can actually solve it.
I didn't hear another word from his mouth about the shot. Does he remember it? I don't know. Maybe. But when something more important comes along, like helping your teammates to victory, injuries are just part of the game and nothing more.
I'm fairly certain this Monday we will encounter a blow of some sort to our egos. It's pretty much guaranteed. So I pray God turns our focus to what is really important, and gives us the legs to hop back into the game!
My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.