I'm excited. Tonight might be a major night for my son. Tonight might bring his first real fight. Yes, many of you know he is in taekwondo. Yes, he does sparring against classmates. But that is full gear... and on Fridays. Tonight, my son might get a chance to knock someone out.
I can hear the screeching tires of your brains as the cars collide and wreckage is seen and heard for miles, but just hear me out. For the past month my children have been playing soccer every Tuesday and Thursday evening. For AJ this has been great fun. She runs around exhausted from the unbearable heat pretending like she is the next winner of the World Cup. She isn't all that great at soccer, but she's four so...who cares? Her team wins many of the matches (not that anyone is keeping score) and there are a few teams that they play against as this is a smaller league in their first year. The problem with a small league in their first year is that different age groups might be bigger or smaller. Last fall, my son played flag football for this league and there were only two teams. Funny thing, soccer is in the same boat. There are only two teams. This means that you play each other over and over again. Twice a week these two teams have battled it out. Hmm.. perhaps that isn't the best word. They don't so much as battle as they do, show up. The other team seems to be stacked with players that have seen and touched a soccer ball before. Ours? Well, I think one or two might have played for a rec team before. One problem with soccer is that it is a full contact sport. Many don't realize it, but outside of the floppers, there can actually be some pretty big hits. My son's team has a player that delivers big hits. Oh, no, he doesn't mean to. He is truly going after the ball. It's his first time playing soccer so sometimes he forgets that you can't push people off you. He's also the tallest kid on the field for either team. So if you knock around with him, you're likely to end up on the ground. Well, he spent a game on the bench back and forth because he was having a hard time keeping his hands down - and the other coach is a whiny little thing. Our player has learned his lesson. He has worked very hard to keep his hands to himself and not push people. Quite a transformation in the short amount of time. However, instead of the other coach commending our player for the transformation, she has sent her goons. Okay, I don't believe that. What I do believe is that she is turning a blind eye to what her players are doing to this child. For instance, their best player is shoving and kicking (as in the ball is to his right and he is kicking left). This is where my son comes in. I was livid after our last game. Furious beyond measure. How could these coaches (who must ref their own games) not call the heinous acts of this player as a penalty? Well, if players are taking matters into their own hands, mine will to. In case you have nothing to do and want to show up to a little kids' soccer match, this is what you might just see. 1. My son is to approach the nasty player and give him warning. "Do not kick my player. We see what you are doing. It is not okay." 2. If this child proceeds in dirty play, my son is to lower his shoulder and lay the kid out. Not in the back, he must see it coming. Shoulder to shoulder, or straight into the chest. 3. My son must immediately reach his hand down to help him up while saying, "Leave my teammate alone." You might think I'm crazy, but, okay, I'm crazy. I just can't help it. It is our job to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. Look, this kid could probably take down their entire team. He's big and strong. But this is a fight he needs to sit out of. There are too many issues in this world for this fight. And yes, race is a big reason to stay out of it. This CHILD needs to see that not all white kids are against black kids. This CHILD needs to see that if he keeps pressing on, others will take on the fight for him. My goodness, the child needs love. And sometimes that love means that someone else is sticking up for them. In our lives we may not always come across those that we assume to be downtrodden. People today hide their shortcomings. Scripturally, we should be caring for the poor, the widow, and the orphan. Unless they are pushing a shopping cart with aluminum cans, I don't know if someone is poor. And what is the definition of poor these days? With divorce rates as high as they are, how do we know if someone is a widow or a divorcee? What if the cause of divorce was something terrible like physical abuse? Does that now allow for us to care for them? I would think so! That is like telling an orphan we cannot care for them because their parents are alive and just don't want them versus dead! It is my job to help those who cannot help themselves every chance that I get. I know I fail at that daily. I know I miss cues and clues that would key me in to a hurting soul. But at least I'm trying and know that I'm lacking. And I know when to fight for others. Today might be a day I watch my son get punched in the face. If he does so for a just cause, let his eye swell with dignity. I might see my son get punched twice. That's because I told him to take the first one like a champ and walk away. After the second one he will have permission to use any force necessary (let's make that green belt count). Life is full of lessons. I was taught that if someone hit me to hit them back and twice as hard so they wouldn't hit me again. I was taught never to start the fight, but make sure I finish it. In times like these when there is anticipation that typically leads to nothing, I find myself reflecting on Jesus in the temple. I can picture him walking into the temple gates and immediately begin to fume. I can picture a clenched jaw and flared nostrils. The disciples try to calm him and he puts a hand up. They know. Don't interfere. Then what does he do? He sits. He sits and MAKES a whip. History teaches us that it would take about three hours to do that. I see him muttering under his breath, "These people think they can just set up shop in my Father's house? Who do they think they are?" And finally the whip is complete and he stands ready to show justice. When I began coaching I had to instill this motto in my girls: Jesus is meek, not weak. I share it every chance I get. Jesus walked humbly on this earth, but he was no man's doormat. The first time I spoke about this concept I asked the girls what Jesus' profession was. They knew. Carpenter. I asked how many power saws he had, and nail guns, and drills. They looked at me like I was nuts. Then I asked if any of them had ever used tools and built things and a few had. Girls were starting to understand that just for Jesus to make wage for food, he had to have some good ole fashion muscle on him. Jesus probably had abs of steel! (Yes, that will be one of my questions in eternity.) Jesus walked this earth as a strong man, humble, loving, and hard working. Best of all, he fought for the little guy. He stuck up for those who were outcasts and nobodies. He raised a boy to life so that his widowed mother wouldn't be alone. He dealt with social injustice on the front line. I may or may not witness a fight tonight, but I know I have begun to instill in my son the idea that it is not okay to sit back and watch when we can put an end to injustice.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorI have a lot to say about a lot of things. Archives
May 2023
Categories |