I stood on the side of the cross country course watching my son go by, his face grimaced with pain, an ace bandage coming unwrapped, trailing from his left leg. He had pulled up lame a week or so before; he hoped to be able to do well enough today to go on to the regional meet. I was juggling my heart--not too skillfully I might add. Do I encourage him to go on, knowing that if he goes on he'll push himself in such a way that his pain will increase? Or, do I yell, "Son, don't hurt yourself. Pull up."? I Know that no one will blame him for not continuing to run on a bad leg. "These things happen. You've got two more trips to the districts. Even if you do hang on and qualify will your leg heal in time to do your best at regionals?"
Of course I couldn't have said all of that out loud. There wasn't time as he ran by. But I knew that with a nod, a look, a few shouted words I could have communicated most all that. Maybe it wouldn't have made any difference. Perhaps I flatter myself to think that what I would say would make a difference at such a point. Maybe, but I don't think so.
Instead I yell, "Hang in there 'Topher. Remember your brother's advice." Big brother, his macho freshly charged with the news that he will be starting this Friday against the #1 football team in the state, had eloquently stated, "You gotta suck it up." (For any who read who are not familiar with sports-macho-talk that means to keep going even when it hurts, for a determined mind to tell an injured body to keep on going. For maximum effect the line needs to be delivered in a course low voice.) It was my son's version of a thousand usually corny sounding statements that coaches spout and hang up on locker room walls.
Only today it wasn't corny.
I knew success in life didn't depend on whether or not my son finished that race. If he didn't qualify for regional competition his life wouldn't stop like some town clock forever frozen at the time of the big earthquake. But all of us must learn to "suck it up." Was this one of those times? I wish I knew for sure. I'm really not any closer to being sure today than I was yesterday.
Maybe he needed to face the hard fact that God doesn't guarantee that hard work will lead to success--at least success as recognized by the passing out of ribbons. Maybe he would have learned more courage by facing the potential scorn of his peers, who would say, "He had a big chance and he let a little pain get in his way." Even in the quiet reflection of the next morning I don't know. That is often how it is. We just don't know, yet as parents, when our kids run by, we are expected to yell something.
Is this the time to let him stretch the limits? Is he ready for this next step? Do I encourage him to run through the pain or do I let him weep in my arms and tell him there will be other days, other races? We aren't equipped with a manual that is that specific. Even if we were, we wouldn't have time to read it. So we stand on the sidelines and yell things as our kids go by. We love them and try to have the best desires for them and try to listen to them and pray for them and hope that at that critical moment when they rush by on their way to adulthood we will yell the right thing. I wish that it were more precise than that, but it's not. If it weren't for the fact that I trust God I would probably give up in despair.
I am firmly convinced that my heavenly Father loves my boys even more than Kathy and I. While I am yelling out to my sons He is encouraging me. Like another old sports cliche', He only expects me to do my best. I need to make sure that my soul is filled with His word and that my heart is tender to His leading. At the critical moment there is no time to study; often there is not even time to think. I need an internal guidance system that always points to the right way. I need to regularly program that system with the data of the Bible. Even if I do my very best the fact remains that I will sometimes fail; if I had to depend solely on my ability to always say and do the right thing in order for my sons to turn out right, I would be a very frustrated dad. I try to do and say what is right, but in the final analysis I have trusted them to God.
No comments:
Post a Comment