Funny, but not-so-funny story...
As previously posted, The Prairie Kid is in soccer. I started playing soccer when I was in 2nd grade and played through the beginning of high school. Soccer in our family became an obsession growing up; we were on the field year-round (yep, indoor in the winter) and played competetive soccer for many years. No doubt, my dad would have loved to see us head to college on a soccer scholarship.
I stood on the sidelines Monday evening hollering for my son to get after the ball. He had shared with me before the game that he was afraid to get kicked. He stayed back and watched the mobs of little feet desperately trying to make contact with the ball. I coached from the sidelines.
After the game we hung out for awhile and then, (sigh), we got in the car. I think the first words out of my mouth were "You've got to get brave and go after the ball! You need to get that ball away from the other team!"
"But I'm scared!"
"You've got to get over that!"
And then, I remembered. That horrible feeling of getting "the lecture" in the car after the game. And I stopped. I turned around and said, "I'm sorry. Sometimes moms and dads get too excited about their kid's sports and I just want you to have fun. You did a great job and you scored a goal! Way to go! I love you, Buddy."
Whew...that was close.
And later, I called up my sister and laughed, "I've turned into our father!" I am thankful for the support and time my dad ALWAYS gave to our sports. However, sometimes as parents we all-too-quickly have unreasonable expectations or goals for our kids and don't always think about the purpose and affect. I am thankful that God reminded me how that felt and that He allowed me to change course and head on a different path with my son.
I still hollered from the sidelines at the next game...but this time it was more like "WAY TO GO! GREAT JOB!" And we laughed and enjoyed our little ones as they buzzed around the field like a herd of bumble bees.