One of my dearest friends, one of my oldest friends lives in Texas. She wasn't born or raised there but she has lived there so long that I feel like she belongs there. I love Texas. My favorite state I've never lived in. Thankfully not only does she live there but some of Michael's family does as well. I don't get to go as much as I'd like but when I can, I jump on the opportunity.
A couple years ago, when my friend was living in The Woodlands, I was visiting. Her oldest son was a senior and he punted for the public high school football team (forgive me if he was a kicker, I know the difference I just can't remember which exactly he was). He wasn't the starter and that was a sore subject all around. There were many reasons the starter shouldn't have been the starter, one of them was talent but for several reasons that caused the word "unfair" to raise it's ugly head, the starter was who he was. I remember watching her son practice one day and marveled at the fact that he actually looked like a ballet dancer. His body and foot had a specific position and when he kicked/punted the ball he leaped into the air beautifully. I was amazed. I couldn't imagine someone performing better than he did. His mom, my friend, was so upset and he was so disappointed. I, was shocked.
Shocked because it didn't seem like her to be that emotional over a teenager's disappointment. After all, this is one of those things that will build his character and make him a better person and a better athlete. She knew that but still, she was so sad for him. They tried different things to help him improve or spoke to different people to help them see his talent. She told me how she would pray and pray for God to allow something to happen on that field that would build his confidence and enable him to see some kind of light at the end of the tunnel. But to no avail. Things really never changed for him on the football field.
Tonight, I was sitting in a very hot bath. Oh, it is one of the best times of day for me when I can sink deep in the tub and let the cares of the day float into the air with the steam. My relaxation was interrupted by my husband returning from a praise team practice with my second son. He plays drums for the youth and has come a long way just in the last several months. We are all proud of him for his perseverance and they are happy to have a drummer. Tonight he was practicing for a retreat and although, over all, the practice went well, he was a little shy about the team leader who is a guest and not familiar with everyone. This guy was a great guy but he was honest with Sam about how he was rushing the beat. Over and over, Sam was rushing. When Sam tried to slow down, he wasn't loud enough. Eventually, Sam got so discouraged that by the time he came home he went into the bathroom and cried. As Michael told me of these events I had an instant flashback to sitting on the bleachers with my Texas friend watching her son kick a football like a star only to realize he wasn't the star. Regardless of what we saw, the coach didn't see a star.
Sam doesn't have that competition, his disappointment and frustration is different. And he has a lot going on in his life besides drumming that are pushing him to the limit. But what caught me off guard was the immediate desire... no need... to rid his little mind of the negative feelings that he had. Even while writing this he came in and laid down on the bed with me and just wanted me to hold him. That scenario is different these days since he's now 1/2" under 6 ft and 180 lbs. But he wanted consoling none-the-less. And we sat there together and I watched - the tears streaming down his cheeks. Intellectually I know that this is a good thing. They all, we all, need times of trial to build our character. But as the mom, even a mom like me who can see these things as good things that God can move in and mold in, I cringe at that pain that accompanies the pruning. The words I wanted to utter, the battle between my heart and my mind was so severe that I wasn't sure which would win. In the end, my mind won. But my heart won too. Even now, minutes after a good cry and his mom loving on him for awhile. Sam doesn't seem so sad. He's more resigned than enthusiastic but that's OK. God can use that and work with that and as usual, I believe he'll come back from his retreat feeling much more encouraged than he thought was possible.
This, in the end, will be a good thing for both of us. It's just hard to be in the middle of it.
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These are just some thoughts from my heart. There's nothing gained by comments that aren't encouraging or edifying. It's not that I don't want you to share your thoughts but think through what you want to say before you say it. If it wouldn't encourage or entertain you, then it won't us either... If it will, then by all means, we want to read it!