Confessions of a Crazy Soccer Mom

Photo Credit: Tawny Friedman

Two Sundays ago (actually, this whole soccer season) was tough on this momma. Ian plays on a team with some exceptional players and happens to fall around number 12 or 13 on a roster of 13. Because of that, he rarely starts in a game, and when they are playing a tournament where they must win to advance, my precious, soccer-loving boy sits most of the game. This has taken a toll on his poor momma’s heart and his poor daddy’s ear, because he has to listen to my rants of frustration, because all I want to do is watch Ian play.

Before Ian's State Cup tournament quarterfinal soccer match, we attended church. We sat and listened to our pastor teach on God’s unbelievable love. Using the passage from John 13:1-17 (one Ian and I had discussed a month or so prior), where Jesus washes his disciples feet, he pulled out truths about love.

Love:

Stays-It lasts, endures, and survives.

Starts-It initiates, chooses.

Submits-It’s devoted; humility with no limitations.

Sacrifices-It is always costly and usually painful or difficult.

Surprises- It shocks, often doing the unexpected.

Does-It is active, always in motion.

You would think that after hearing a message on love, I would have been fully prepared to demonstrate love on the sidelines of the field. Sadly, it wasn’t the case. Instead, as the minutes of the first half ticked by and neared the end without seeing my boy on the pitch, I moved from frustrated, to hurt (with tears), to downright mad. My jaw was set, and my brow furrowed. Even when Ian came in the last 3 minutes of the first half, I could barely focus on his play because I was beyond ticked. This only continued through the second half, as he sat all but the last 8 minutes of that half. Even when the team pulled a huge win, I was still so bent out of shape that it was hard to be happy for them. Jacked-up crazy, right? But even worse, I utilized a dozen different reasons to justify my behavior. That isn't just jacked-up crazy and extremely sad, its sin. 

As I reflected upon the day, I went into Ian’s room and told him how proud I was of his play. I told him I was especially proud of his amazing sportsmanship throughout the game. There wasn’t a moment that passed during the game where he wasn’t engaged on the sideline. He stood most of the time and stayed focused on the field and his teammates, cheering and giving high-fives to his teammates as substitutions were made, and he was mentally and physically ready to roll when the coach asked him to go in.

I confessed to him what my response was throughout the game, and how completely opposite it was from his. He remarked how the player who he usually subs in for was having a remarkable game, so he understood why he had not been subbed in sooner. He also mentioned how all the other players played exceptionally well also. He was beaming with pride at their accomplishments. He knew the overall goal was to win, and he trusted his coach would do his best to position the team to achieve success. He then added a long-range perspective of how when he gets to the pros, there are usually 6 guys on the bench and only 3 subs allowed. He noted that in that instance, he might not get to play at all. All I could do at this point was smile big! Which made me think:

Circumstance + Perspective = Experience (J. Dombrow)

As I listened to Ian explain with excitement how God had answered his prayer for a win, I was humbled at my boy’s big faith and even bigger heart. He sees and understands things that I’m not sure I will ever see or understand. He knows the importance of staying true to his team by sitting the bench while others shine, choosing to cheer and encourage even when he’s not on the field, submitting to his coach’s wisdom to read the game and make decisions to play players in a way that will hopefully bring success for the team.  He sacrifices his playtime without complaint for the betterment of the team. He never ceases to surprise me with his positive attitude and his little acts of kindness and encouragement that others may not see.

In short, Ian loves. He doesn’t always do this perfectly, but on that Sunday, I’d say he came pretty close. Though he loves the game of soccer, that love does not outweigh his love for his friends and his team. And isn’t that the really big goal of life? Love God and love others? 

Clearly, God is doing a mighty work in my boy’s heart. I am so thankful for the way He has surrounded Ian with an solid community, people who build him up and challenge him to be an amazing person, both on and off the field. I do not know if he will make it to the pros one day or not, but I do know that no matter where life carries him, he will love others well. And this crazy soccer mom wouldn't trade that for all the game time in the world. 

Obviously, I'm praying God will grow me in my ability to love others. I’m thankful He has given me a precious role model to emulate, especially when it comes to the realm of youth soccer! Indeed, God’s mercies are new each day, and for that I am thankful.  

**An update: The boys played last Saturday in the semi-finals. I was at total peace throughout the whole game. It didn't matter if Ian played or not (he did), if the team won or not (they didn't). I had others praying, helping me walk the youth soccer road. Eventually, I know it will come, that peace and total joy that comes from simply watching your child be right where he's suppose to be, doing exactly what he's suppose to be doing. In fact, I think from now on, this peace will be experienced more often than not, as I lean not on my own understanding, but trust in the plans God has laid out for my boy. Obviously, He is more interested in Ian's heart, then his ability to score a goal, though I think He cares about that, too;)  

Slow and Steady...

This will be a thought dump…so hold on. It may or may not make sense, and I’m good with that…

So I’ve determined that I will always be a slow runner. I’m totally cool with that. Some think it’s a failure to walk a portion of a run or to not meet a certain time/distance goal. I use to be one of those people. I have learned to extend large measures of grace to myself lately, because I really don’t know what will happen on any given run, be it a race or just a simple out and back near my home.

For example, today, around mile 2, I picked a dandelion. I do this often, and before I blow all the seeds into the big blue sky, I name all those I love. I name their hurts and cares, victories and losses, hopes and dreams. I then take a big breath and blow, watching the seeds fly high, landing exactly where they are suppose to. In this simple act, I release each of these loved ones to the Lord, trusting Him to care for them in His perfect and wonderful way.

After watching those little gems fly, I was drawn to complete tears, all the way home. Not those pretty tears that trickle down the face, but rather the bend over on the side of the road, unable to catch your breath, sobbing tears. Why? Because this morning, out of the clear blue sky, my girl called to me from her sleepy bed, and when I peeked into her room she said, with a smile on her face and no other requests attached (think …and can we go to Dutch, or Urban, or…fill in the blank), “Mom, I love you.” I replied simply that I loved her too, and then proceeded to go get breakfast ready. 

But on my run, God brought the significance of those words to light. He knew deep in my heart, how I longed to hear those words spoken again.

Now here’s where it gets hard. I don’t write the following to seek pity or cause shame, but rather to praise God for what He alone has done. The past 2+ years have been very challenging in our home. Our girl has been hurting in the worst of ways. Darkness has threatened to consume us on more than one occasion. There have been days when we couldn’t stand or remember how to breathe. Anger, resentment, frustration, and lies filled our home. God seemed very distant. I got to the point I had no words to even pray anymore. Every relationship in our home experienced deep wounds from the battle that was being waged in and around us. The days were thin; to the point where I was sure at any moment things would just snap, and our girl would be dead in the tub, or gone from our home, never to be seen again, or our marriage would completely crumble under the weight of the hurt and pain and years of neglect.

But God…

But God…through His grace, mercy, and love, quietly intervened. He surrounded us with people who faithfully prayed (and continue to pray!) for us when we couldn’t pray, who picked us up when we couldn’t stand, who helped us walk when we couldn’t figure out how to move our feet. He provided a wonderful counselor for our girl, indeed our whole family. He provided marriage mentors who made us dig deep, held us accountable, and helped us get our marriage back on track. He gave us an angel who brought our girl home when she ran, and who now speaks words of truth and encouragement into her heart. He has provided teachers who are patient and understanding, while at the same time, allowing our girl to experience the weight of natural consequences.  Really, over the past months, our family just continues to get larger and larger as God continues to surround us with His big, loving arms in very tangible ways through people who love Him and love others well.

God is shining light into dark areas and bringing healing to the deep wounds. He has brought laughter back into our home. He continues to give us eyes to see Him and ears to hear His softly spoken words. He continues to give us courage to lean in and strength to hold on, if even to the last little thread on the end of the rope. Actually, even when we’ve let go of that thread, He has caught us in His loving hands and gently placed our feet back on solid ground. He is a good God, a loving Father, a faithful Warrior who fights for his children, and His children’s children.

His. Grace. Is. Sufficient. And it has carried us far from where we were, to where we are. A place where words of love can be spoken, lived, received. This is huge!

Each day, each run, is filled with surprises. Indeed, it is very challenging to train for a race while simultaneously allowing God to have His way with my heart, because tears happen and running with tears does not happen! But I would rather run slow, even walk, and not reach my time/distance goals, while hearing Him whisper sweet words of love, than run fast and completely miss all His glory and grace. I know He has built and equipped me for the long haul, to be slow and steady, to obtain the prize, which isn’t a sparkly medal (though you know how I love those!!), but rather to obtain the amazing prize of His Presence. I know, in the depths of my being, He will be there every step of the way on this crazy journey of life, and even when it doesn't feel like it, He's still there. For that, I am thankful. 

Dreaming

photo credit: MK Hansen

I woke in the dark of the morning with my left arm solid asleep. As the blood slowly filled, causing my finger tips to tingle, I decided it best to get my lazy bum out of bed and crank out some miles, especially since I had not covered any distance since my last 10 mile run 10 days ago. Because, Zowie!, I have a Princess race to run on Sunday! So I hopped up, threw on my running garb, and hit the ‘mill.

The first song to pop up on my iPod was Mumford and Sons, “Awake My Soul.” Quickly, it became my arms up in the air prayer. God is doing a work in my heart, an awakening, a becoming, a grand transformation. I know this is something he is always doing, especially when we are in his word, digging deep to know him. But for some reason, seminary plus life circumstances seem to be accelerating this process. For the past 3 years I have been praying for God to awaken my spirit, to bring awareness to the sleeping depths of my being where sin, weakness, and faith all reside. He is faithful, and he answers in amazing and really unexpected ways. This morning, while on my run, I began to dream, to think through what could be. I know it was God’s Spirit dwelling in me that brought these thoughts, for on my own, I could not imagine them. All are impossible, which of course just makes the likelihood that they are from God all the more assured. After I finished my run, I came in the kitchen to find my beloved getting ready for the day. While stretching, I told him the plans. He looked at me like I was crazy, as usual, shook his head, and continued to put his shoes on. Nothing else was said.

Later in the morning, I went to visit a BSF class that is near and dear to my heart. I had not been back to see my sisters since God removed me from the class last May. It was good to be back on familiar ground. The teaching was on Numbers 13-14, with the exploration of the Promised Land and the people’s rebellion to the report. The first division was Numbers 13. While it wasn’t a principle, it was what God gave me to write down, plus a few questions from the TL…Do I have a God-centered or me-centered perspective as I am called to explore and inhabit new lands? Is my God big enough to fulfill his promises? Will I claim the promises he has given me? All I could do was smile.

When I arrived home, I read an email from my beloved. (Side note: Since he had to step out of BSF leadership, he receives the lecture from the men’s BSF class. I love how the men still love and care for him with abundant measures of grace, even though he is no longer in that circle. It is beautiful and an encouragement to his heart.) He sent me a copy of the lecture document from last night’s men’s class meeting. It has much of the same things I had just heard. He writes in his email, “Was thinking about your run on the treadmill this morning…” At that point, what could I do but laugh! Michael knows of God’s faithfulness to fulfill the crazy ideas He puts in my head! Just in the past 4 years, he has watched God provide for and take me to Rwanda 3 times, as well as begin seminary with no real tangible reasons as to why or what’s next. I told him I’m ready to be like Joshua and Caleb, trusting God to do the impossible. He then says, “Bring home the grapes! Not the bacon!”

Truly, if any grapes are gathered, it will be by the hand of the Lord, and if any new territory is covered, it will be by God’s leading and enabling. Which reminds me of my lectio divina time yesterday:

 “When the Lord brings you into the land he swore to your fathers, to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, to give you-a land with large flourishing cities you did not build, houses filled with all kinds of good things you did not provide, wells you did not dig, and vineyards and olive groves you did not plant- then when you eat and are satisfied, be careful that you do not forget the Lord, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.”

Deuteronomy 6:10-12

Clearly, it is all his doing. Any place we go, everything we have and are satisfied with, is all from His Hand. He alone is to receive the glory for the deliverance and the provision. And indeed, when the visions He has given me come to pass, in full or in part, all glory will be His. And I have no doubt the fruit produced with be both satisfying and eternal, and God willing, there will be a little bacon thrown in for this bacon loving girlJ

On the Verge

All week I have been on the verge of tears. Maybe it’s hormonal? Maybe it’s because it’s finals week for the girl and she is teetering on the edge of D/C and C/B in many classes simply due to poor choices throughout the semester and that just hurts my momma heart? Maybe it’s because my boy is on the alternate list for a team he played well for in the fall, helping them earn a place in the state tourney, but still isn’t on the set roster, and well, that hurts my momma heart, too? Maybe it’s the new job for my beloved and the adjustment it brings, the worst being attending a ball with small talk and a silent auction and a whole bunch of people I don’t know, and that just makes me want to curl up under a stone?

Or maybe it’s because this last week I have had to assess and begin exploring my Enneagram type? Last spring semester, when I began seminary, one of my classes included the Myers-Briggs assessment. It was good finding out I am an ISTJ. It made perfect sense when I read the description and helped put some pieces of my life’s puzzle together. But exploring the Enneagram, or as some may call it, the “Dark Side of the personality,” has been a tougher pill to swallow…and its only week 2 of class! Each time I open Riso-Hudson’s The Wisdom of the Enneagram and read more about my type, which is Type One, I cry. It’s like I’m looking in the mirror, and let me tell you, it is not pretty. 

Some quick words that describe the Type One are the: teacher, activist, crusader, moralist, perfectionist, and organizer. On the surface, these titles seem fine and dandy, and maybe one day they will be, but for today and for me, they are not. Underlying these titles is a deep seeded fear of “being ‘bad,’ defective, evil, corrupt.” The Ones basic desire is to “be good, virtuous, in balance-have integrity,” and their superego says, “You are good or ok if you do what is right.” Again, maybe this sounds fine, but the way a One accomplishes this isn’t always lovely. It usually involves control, judgment, perfectionism, and criticism. For Ones, there is an internal war going on in the mind, because as hard as they are on others, they are even harder on themselves. It is so funny to read all this, because I experience this war everyday in my head. It really is nonstop. I always have, ever since I was young. Sadly, I have no idea when or why such thinking all began. As I said, this is only the beginning of the semester, but I have to believe it will be a tough one filled with much intentionality and prayer (thankfully I'm taking that class, too!!) as I dig in and see what God desires to reveal and then transform in my heart and mind.

Maybe you’d like to know your type? Here’s a link to take the assessment. It is $8, or you can likely find a free version online. But the $8 one is pretty thorough and helps narrow down the types for you. Each person has some of all of the nine types within them, but we all tend to lean more heavily in one-type tendency or another. If you have some that are close, its best to read through them and discern which you seem to be most like. Let me know if you take it and what you think, because it is way more fun to have a running partner when traveling unknown terrainJ

A Hard Race to Run

Let me just start by saying being a teen sucks. Really. The race set before these kids is near impossible. We can remind our girl of God's loving presence and steadfast love until the cows come home, but after breakfast has been eaten and she's ready to step out the door in her funky flannel shirt and Doc Martins, she steps into the horrific halls of high school. She steps into days riddled with anxiety and despair and desperate attempts to be known, to be seen, to be understood. From she's wearing my shoes, to missed assignments and failed exams, and he tweeted this or she posted that, and teachers and coaches who as adults give a ton and expect 110% from each kid in all areas of life, and everyone thinks I'm weird or strange or ugly or..., to how am I suppose to think about college when I can't even think past today or this week? Really, its no wonder most kids just want to escape this existence by cheating or cutting or drinking or drugging...anything to numb the pain and escape the reality of life.

And yes, some of these kids are from Christian homes. In fact many are. They have been to church all their life. They have attended VBS and summer church camps and mission trips, and they hear the Gospel preached at Youth group meetings. So why do they have so little hope? Why is Twitter, Instagram, and every other social media feed filled with kids gasping for air, trying to keep their head above the stormy waters of life? Where is the freedom in Christ they hear about from the mouths of adults, leaders, parents? Where is it? Where is that redeeming freedom from the chains that bind? God knows I have a tough time comprehending that freedom, much less living in it. So how can a teen begin to experience it?

Surely it is by God's grace alone that she, we, or any of us make it through the days. Its a hard race to run, this life God has called us to. Camping in Truth is the only way I know to navigate this life. Where else can we go? All else is empty. There is no one to turn to but the Lord Jesus. So Lord, have mercy on these young souls. Help each one of them know they are loved unconditionally by you. Help them to have eyes to see you in all things, in all people. Help them to hear the quiet whisper of your voice, your truth, about who they are in you. Help them to experience your presence throughout their days, especially when walking down school hallways. Help them to know you have plans for each day of their life, and that those plans are good, because you are good. Help them to persevere in standing on the foundation of you, because you are solid, immovable, unshakable. Help them to lean into the mess and participate in the life you've given them, trusting you every step of the way, because you are trustworthy and faithful. Fill them with light and joy and love and gratitude, so that many will awaken and know of your redeeming grace. Lord, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24), so that I can come alongside this Doc Martin boots wearin' girl you've given me and help her run this hard race well.

Christmas Deconstruction

Last night I began deconstructing Christmas, taking ornaments off the tree, wrapping them carefully and trying to place them just perfectly, like puzzle pieces, into the storage containers. They never go back into those containers the same way. Never. 

Isn't that like the birth of Jesus, the Word made flesh? Doesn't that truth totally deconstruct all that we embraced in our logical minds? Doesn't the life Jesus lived totally flip upside down all which the world considers important? Doesn't His death and resurrection totally upend logic and reason? Doesn't His written Word, written by many, collected by many, given to many, fly in the face of worldly wisdom? And what of faith? And Truth? Hope? Grace and mercy? The more God has me deconstruct my long held thoughts and beliefs on such matters, the more solid, though smaller in size, the foundation upon which I stand becomes. The lines of black and white become more gray, shaded with grace, for the dogmatic hard lines just made for a blurred picture of God's love. But the gray, in a crazy paradoxical way, gives a crisp picture of His beauty and grace, His saving, unconditional, love-filled grace. 

So now that Christmas has been deconstructed, and the lights are gone and the space is big, how do I fill that daily, moment by moment, with God's light and love? Without the flamboyance of a tree and sparkling lights and ornaments and an angel announcing His birth, how do I live out and lean into this life with intentionality to make Jesus known? I think it is pretty simple. He's already showing me and growing me in many of these areas: Take time. Look people in the eye. Really listen. Be vulnerable, real, open. Love fiercely. Pray fervently. Walk faithfully. Forgive. Be teachable. Be aware. Give abundantly (of my time, energy, and resources). Dig deep into the Word, seeking Him above all else. Abide in Him. Immanuel, God with us, indeed.

Strappin' the shoes back on!

It has been a long time since I posted in this space. Really, I prefer short, sweet posts on FB. But lately I have had way too much swimming in my head. Back in January, God opened the doors for me to attend seminary. School plus the crazy of life has left me spinning a bit. I have been journaling for class and for myself. Still, sometimes its easier to just hammer out a thought here on the box. Some of my thoughts have been too long for a FB post. Some may even be too personal or maybe even a bit confrontational. I am in a serious season of deconstruction: emotionally, spiritually, and at times even physically. All I have held true is being examined, and reexamined, and then reexamined again.

Its been on my mind to open up this space again. I want to remember the books I've read and how they have impacted me. I want to explore things, dig deep (or as deep as I can), and just try to get my head around what it is God is doing in my life and how He will work it all out for His glory. Maybe this place is just for me...maybe not. Maybe others will join in on the journey...maybe not. Still, I invite you to come along for a run. I can't guarantee the weather will always be fine or the path always smooth, but I can guarantee God will be with us every step of the way.