By Jennifer Greene-Sullivan
Yesterday, I watched my nine-year-old son play afraid.
It was Liam’s first 10U rec football game of the season, and the players lining up across from him were big and talented. Instead of playing the way I had watched him play before, Liam hesitated.
He stood back from the action. On offense and defense, fear kept him from fully participating in the game he knew how to play.
Sadly, his mama did not respond with grace.
Sitting in the stands talking to my mama, I became increasingly frustrated. Liam plays center, a position of leadership, and I could see how his hesitation affected more than just him.
At one point, I even told Mama that his playing “sucked” that night. I was so focused on what I perceived as Liam’s lack of courage and effort that I failed to recognize my own lack of grace.
By the time the game ended with a 25-point loss, I was prepared to be stern with my son.
Thankfully, the Lord had some coaching to do with Mama first.
Conviction came quickly. Liam is nine years old. This was his first game of the season, and he had looked across the line at something that frightened him.
While he certainly needed to learn from the experience, my harsh thoughts and careless words were not going to teach him courage. I asked the Lord to forgive me, and He did.
Then, after dinner, Liam and I climbed into the truck alone for the ride home, and I asked God to give me the words my son needed instead of the words my frustration wanted to say.
I told Liam something I have learned about adulthood: much of the time, we work afraid, live afraid, and carry on afraid. Courage does not always mean fear disappears. Sometimes courage means trusting God enough to take the next step while we are still feeling it.
Psalm 56:3 says, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.”
Not if I am afraid. When.
I reminded Liam that bigger does not necessarily mean better. I reminded him that as the center, he is a leader, and when a leader refuses to lead, others are affected. Most importantly, I told him that every play gives him another opportunity to start fresh. One fearful play does not have to determine the next one.
Somewhere during that ride home, I realized God had given me the same lesson.
I had made a bad play from the stands. I had spoken carelessly and judged harshly. Thankfully, conviction gave me the opportunity to turn to God, to receive His forgiveness, and to start fresh as well.
Next game, Liam will line up at center again. Someone bigger will be standing across from him. I hope he remembers that courage does not require him to stop being afraid. He simply has to trust God, start fresh with the next play, and do what he knows to do.
Finally, somewhere in the stands, his mama will need to remember the same thing.
Torn wings still fly.
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