And sadly, I am reminded of this over and over.
One of the hardest parts of being a part of our small Christian school is that I was raised in the public school. This is especially true when it comes to sports. I come from a small community with a very strong winning tradition in our sports teams in the public school. Win. That's what we do... in a Friday-Night-Lights sort of way. Win, win, win... at all costs.
We left the public school system for a myriad of reasons but two near the top of the list were respect issues and the almighty holy grail of athletics. Both of these issues are non-issues in our Christian school. Praise the Lord. But, I am still a product of the public school. I can say it [winning sports matches doesn't matter] with my head and even believe it in my heart until the clock is ticking and it's game time. The Lord has broken me in the area of sports. My daughter, Regan's junior high volleyball and basketball teams over two years combined, might have won two or three games... and lost around 40. Bad, lose. Blowout, lose. Our high school, on the other hand, is very athletic, has much success and can play with the best of them... boys and girls. I keep thinking there's hope. But that's where I'm still holding out for a sliver of pride, and probably not completely humbled. The Lord keeps telling me, "It doesn't matter. Really."
Last night was the season end for Regan's team until next fall. I was ready for it to be over. It really is painful to watch. I see so much that could be done differently, better.... but at what cost? Do I want my children to have the same handicap that my husband and I have... the win at all costs training? Win, win, win. [ I must say, I think my husband had it as bad or worse than I did; his high school coach played NBA.] No. I don't want that, and I am so pleased with Regan's coach; he is a good man, a humble man. As Christians we don't play the political games, we don't manipulate situations or bend rules to make our team have the advantage... our coach doesn't schmooze with the officials. We play upright and take what we draw. We don't throw huge amounts of money into our athletic department, and we don't pay our coach an outrageous sum of money. That's how we want it. That's why we left the public school system. Oh, Lord, but why can't we win, too? Keep chiseling, Lord. You're almost there.
Last night another hunk of chiseled off junk hit the floor. You see, two of my daughters played basketball last night... from two different schools, one public, one private, in two different towns about 60 miles apart, at nearly the same time. I sent Rosalind on the bus with the team and drove to Regan's last game. Not long after we arrived home from Regan's game, the projected time of arrival for Rosalind's team was near, so I went to the school to wait on her. After 30 minutes, she calls me (upset) and tells me that I have to be there to pick her up right when they arrive or she doesn't get to play in tomorrow's game. What?? I reassured her that I would be there to get her, in fact, that I was already there waiting. She said they'd be about 30 more minutes, so I decided to just wait... boiling. Furious. When she arrived and got in the truck, she went on to tell me that there were 13 kids on the bus... three had cell phones. Right when he stepped on the bus, her coach told the players that their rides were to be there waiting for them or they wouldn't get to play tomorrow night because he didn't want to have to "do this" two nights in a row. He didn't offer his phone. He just threatened them. Rosalind asked to borrow a phone from one of the three, and then called me. Funny, he didn't seem to mention to them that he was an hour late from the estimated time of arrival that was printed on the note that he sent home. I didn't get a call telling me they were running an hour behind schedule.... oh, yeah, silly me, my time doesn't matter. I wanted to jerk him and his arrogant, disrespectful self up and give him a tongue lashing. Two years and three months more of this disrespect. This arrogance. This manipulation of our children. I honestly don't think we're going to make it through the end of my third daughter, Rayne's grade school years in the public school system. There is just too much wrong. Thank you, Lord, for another example. I don't want to win. I don't. I am completely humbled.
Don't love the world's ways. Don't love the world's goods. Love of the world squeezes out love for the Father. Practically everything that goes on in the world—wanting your own way, wanting everything for yourself, wanting to appear important—has nothing to do with the Father. It just isolates you from him. The world and all its wanting, wanting, wanting is on the way out—but whoever does what God wants is set for eternity. 1 John 2 in The Message.
One of the hardest parts of being a part of our small Christian school is that I was raised in the public school. This is especially true when it comes to sports. I come from a small community with a very strong winning tradition in our sports teams in the public school. Win. That's what we do... in a Friday-Night-Lights sort of way. Win, win, win... at all costs.
We left the public school system for a myriad of reasons but two near the top of the list were respect issues and the almighty holy grail of athletics. Both of these issues are non-issues in our Christian school. Praise the Lord. But, I am still a product of the public school. I can say it [winning sports matches doesn't matter] with my head and even believe it in my heart until the clock is ticking and it's game time. The Lord has broken me in the area of sports. My daughter, Regan's junior high volleyball and basketball teams over two years combined, might have won two or three games... and lost around 40. Bad, lose. Blowout, lose. Our high school, on the other hand, is very athletic, has much success and can play with the best of them... boys and girls. I keep thinking there's hope. But that's where I'm still holding out for a sliver of pride, and probably not completely humbled. The Lord keeps telling me, "It doesn't matter. Really."
Last night was the season end for Regan's team until next fall. I was ready for it to be over. It really is painful to watch. I see so much that could be done differently, better.... but at what cost? Do I want my children to have the same handicap that my husband and I have... the win at all costs training? Win, win, win. [ I must say, I think my husband had it as bad or worse than I did; his high school coach played NBA.] No. I don't want that, and I am so pleased with Regan's coach; he is a good man, a humble man. As Christians we don't play the political games, we don't manipulate situations or bend rules to make our team have the advantage... our coach doesn't schmooze with the officials. We play upright and take what we draw. We don't throw huge amounts of money into our athletic department, and we don't pay our coach an outrageous sum of money. That's how we want it. That's why we left the public school system. Oh, Lord, but why can't we win, too? Keep chiseling, Lord. You're almost there.
Last night another hunk of chiseled off junk hit the floor. You see, two of my daughters played basketball last night... from two different schools, one public, one private, in two different towns about 60 miles apart, at nearly the same time. I sent Rosalind on the bus with the team and drove to Regan's last game. Not long after we arrived home from Regan's game, the projected time of arrival for Rosalind's team was near, so I went to the school to wait on her. After 30 minutes, she calls me (upset) and tells me that I have to be there to pick her up right when they arrive or she doesn't get to play in tomorrow's game. What?? I reassured her that I would be there to get her, in fact, that I was already there waiting. She said they'd be about 30 more minutes, so I decided to just wait... boiling. Furious. When she arrived and got in the truck, she went on to tell me that there were 13 kids on the bus... three had cell phones. Right when he stepped on the bus, her coach told the players that their rides were to be there waiting for them or they wouldn't get to play tomorrow night because he didn't want to have to "do this" two nights in a row. He didn't offer his phone. He just threatened them. Rosalind asked to borrow a phone from one of the three, and then called me. Funny, he didn't seem to mention to them that he was an hour late from the estimated time of arrival that was printed on the note that he sent home. I didn't get a call telling me they were running an hour behind schedule.... oh, yeah, silly me, my time doesn't matter. I wanted to jerk him and his arrogant, disrespectful self up and give him a tongue lashing. Two years and three months more of this disrespect. This arrogance. This manipulation of our children. I honestly don't think we're going to make it through the end of my third daughter, Rayne's grade school years in the public school system. There is just too much wrong. Thank you, Lord, for another example. I don't want to win. I don't. I am completely humbled.
Don't love the world's ways. Don't love the world's goods. Love of the world squeezes out love for the Father. Practically everything that goes on in the world—wanting your own way, wanting everything for yourself, wanting to appear important—has nothing to do with the Father. It just isolates you from him. The world and all its wanting, wanting, wanting is on the way out—but whoever does what God wants is set for eternity. 1 John 2 in The Message.
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