There was nothing phenomenal about Thing 1’s basketball season this year. In fact, my frustration rolled in waves as they lost game after game. Her team won exactly zero games this season. As a parent, I had to be her cheerleader, her example of how she should act. I failed.
Too often, my irritation got the best of me. It would do no one any good for me to rehash my reasons or explanations, my excuses, whether justified or not. But this is true—I certainly was not the godly model from Phillipians 4:8:
Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things.
Ever mindful, I tied the losses to coined phrases like: “Sometimes you don’t win in life and you have to keep trying” or “Just because you lose, doesn’t mean that you stop trying.” Really…I was that cliché. Blech.
When the painful season ended, we all heaved a sigh of relief. It was done. No more forty point losses. Thing 1 would try again with a local AU team. Maybe it would be less painful. Maybe not. Either way, we put the regular season behind us and moved on.
This morning, as I was headed out the door to drop off the spawn at school before heading to Mount Hermon, Hubs sent me a strange text:
“Have Thing 1 look at this link before you drop her off.”
Lo and behold, a little miracle for Thing 1. She was named to the All-League team. My heart squeezed when her eyes filled with tears—someone besides her family saw her efforts. Epic letdown, continual rejection, resulted in eventual triumph.
Her moment lit a fire within me, as I got on the road for this conference. Last year, I ended up with a monumental face palm. Then there were the rejections. But then there was learning and being honest with myself about this trip. Maybe it’ll be less painful. Maybe not. Either way, I’m sure God has an eventual plan for my writing. And that’s pretty exciting.