The Sweeper & other scary things.

I watched my daughter play her first sports game this past Saturday. In doing this I realized that my children aren’t going to have a bigger fan than their Momma! If she had chosen ping pong, you can bet that I’d be suited up, extra paddle in tow and her name written on my cheek. . . thankfully, she chose soccer. It’s a much more traditional game for cheering.

I watched as she tried to get a bearing of the field. Between the rambunctious  parents cheering on the side lines and the coach’s directions she struggled with what exactly it was she was supposed to be doing. As the hoard of girls came towards her, kicking and running, she hesitated. “Do I run in towards them? Do I risk getting trampled? Am I going to die?” I can imagine these were some of her thoughts. . . she wrote them all over her face.

It’s not natural for some people to see chaos in front of them and run head on into it. Particularly while the unknown is awaiting you on the other side. I’ve met people throughout my life who face adversity with a smirk. As if they’re delighted for the challenge.

I’m finding that it depends on the situation. This week I found myself shrinking down with each passing day. I’m tired. I’m drained. I’m unsure. I feel like my life is taking from me more than it's giving and while I’m usually up to the task. . . I’m running on empty. Consequently, as I was walking up the basement stairs, laundry in tow, my mind ran through the coming week and I was overcome with dread mixed with a little uncertainty, and maybe even a little defeat. It’s as if the appointments, the kids, the giving and simply the norm was all coming at me like a hoard of fierce little soccer players. I slumped down on the top stair and started to cry. Fearful. I’m not ready for tomorrow . . . I’m not even ready for my kid’s naptime to be over in 10 minutes. But this morning I was reminded of the most basic lesson that we teach children at church. We’re here in this life to do our best, to be kind and to do what is right. Problem: we can’t do this by ourselves. God offers to help us everyday. Good thing too because I asked God to help me right there between the neatly folded pants and missing pair of socks. I couldn't articulate what exactly I needed help in but He knew and I just breathed it up towards Him and sat there for a moment.

Some days you just hang on. Breathe. Get through the day and get it over with. Because looking ahead doesn't always give you the warm fuzzies. When I thought about the entire game . . or in my case the coming week, I shrank back and froze.

Instead I told myself to just think about what the next play was, not the whole game. . . so I got up off the stairs and started dinner. It’ll work out.