You're Not Alone

Ron is a sore loser. I mean a really REALLY sore loser. Wikipedia the two words “sore” and “loser” together and a picture of Ron will pop up. Okay maybe I’m exaggerating a bit, but if you give me a few minutes I’ll update the page on Wikipedia and then you’ll see his pic. You would think that after 25 years of coaching he’d be used to the emotions that come with winning and losing. Well quit thinking that way ‘cuz you’re wrong.

When Ron’s players are up against a tough team that they may lose to, he always tells me not to come to the game. Wait, I think I’m downplaying that. He ORDERS me not to go. Yeah right, gimme a break, order me not to do something? He goes on and on about how the team is going to get massacred and how it’ll be way too embarrassing for him and he doesn’t want me sitting in the stands hearing all the people talk bad about the team and the coaches (and oh boy do those fans talk some major smack). He doesn’t want to subject me to what he sees as his personal failure.

The first couple of years, I ignored his edicts and went to the games anyway. I endured the crowd comments by yelling plays at the team…for example: to the quarterback who’s unsuccessfully executed The Option, two consecutive plays in a row by keeping the ball and trying to run it through an offensive line that consistently misses their assignment, I yell “Option means you don’t have to keep the ball, you have an option of giving it off, to someone else.” I mean hey, maybe he was asleep during that part of practice where they run through his options. Or to the defense I’d yell, “you’re supposed to block the other team, not give’em an open alley to run the ball thru.” It's quite possibe they were trying to be polite and let the other team pass, I dunno!

After games I’d head down to the locker rooms with the other coach’s wives and wait for Ron to come off the field. While the other coaches and their wives were hugging and laughing and shaking off the “massacre”, I got to console Eeyore whose 6ft 2in two-hundred some odd pound frame seemed to have shrunk a few feet as he would stand hunched over in defeat. He refused to talk more than a few words and joking around with him was taboo. He’s just not good at losing.

I struggle with his request for me not to be there when he feels he’s going to lose. Supporting those you love in good and bad times is programmed into my DNA. I was raised, that you should be there with a party-in-a-bag to celebrate when your loved one wins and have a first-aid kit in hand to gently tend to their wounds (or gashes whatever the case may be) when they lose.

At the beginning of the third year, I decided to approach the “don’t come we’re gonna get slaughtered,” thing differently. I resolved that if he didn’t want me to witness his perceived failure, I would go to the games incognito. I’d pull on ball cap, arranging it low on my forehead, then I'd dress in a non-descript outfit and sit in a corner at the very top of the bleachers and quietly cheer him on. Then, as the last minutes ticked away, I’d head toward the parking lot and watch the rest of the game while sitting on the roof of my car and as soon as the scoreboard read 00:00, I slid off the roof, got in my car and headed home, Ron none the wiser.

This year in anticipation of the ‘poor loser’ monster emerging from the murky depths, I’ve been checking out new ball caps and shopping for this year’s lastest fashion in ‘incognito’ clothing. But spiritually, this football season is different for me. Over the last two years, I’ve been walking through a spiritual season where God has been working on an elaborate tattoo for my soul. The tattoo, now finished, reads: “you are not alone.” Now that His season of work is complete, I see and understand more clearly Deuteronomy 3:6 , a passage that is repeated again and again throughout scripture.

Even when I feel like I don’t want anyone around me because I’m ashamed of my failure, my shortcomings, He’s there. Sometimes, I feel that no one will understand a particular issue that I’m working thru, so I clam up and tunnel myself into a hole emotionally, blocking out the world, for fear of being embarrassed or people thinking less of me because of my struggle. Even in my cave I’ve hollowed out for myself God’s there. There’s no where that I can run, hide, tunnel, bike, burrow, fly, or ensconce myself that He’s not there. There’s power in those words, “I will never leave you, nor forsake you.”

HE'S ALWAYS THERE!

Quit trying to push God away. Quit trying to make excuses for why He can’t be a part of your day (the good ones and the bad ones). Quit making excuses for why you can’t spend time with Him.

For better or for worse, He’s there.

Win or lose He’s there.

Face it, even if you push Him out and tell Him not to show up, He’s gonna show up. You may not see Him. He may have a hat and His ‘incognito’ clothing on, but He’s there!

He’s PROMISED that He’ll never leave us. He’s there (He’s looking over your shoulder reading this blog entry with you right now saying “yeah, what she said”).

So buck up!

Quit telling God to forgo those rough spots that you’re afraid of stumbling thru and getting bathed in the funk of failure.

Quit telling Him, that you’ll let him recommence directing your life once you get to a place you know you’ll succeed.

DUDE! He’s coming to the game whether you like it or not. You might as well have him sitting dead center on the 50-yard line yelling plays at you.

As His child, as His investment, you’re NEVER alone!

Don’t look for me at tonight’s game, you'll give away my disguise. I’ll be hiding from Ron in the dark nether regions of the upper most rows of the bleachers.

You may not see me, but trust that I’ll be there.