May 18th, 2021

We went into the first round of state tournaments with low expectations for winning. And we didn’t. The kids fought hard, but the other team scored more points. There were these moments watching our son play today that grabbed my heart. My son… a man of such great character. 

He teaches me daily by living well… not with many words - but with his life. 

No one watching today would ever know the struggles he has been through in order to arrive on this court - on this day. Nothing comes easily to this kid.... Nothing. He is naturally a concrete abstract - which means he sees everything literally. This usually results in seeing things completely differently from his average peer. We saw signs of this way back in preschool, it continued through elementary school… and finally God prompted us to create a learning environment, as best as we were able, in which he could learn and thrive. 

He’s had some of the most amazing coaches, teachers, professors, and mentors anyone could ever hope for… Some have been brutally honest and strict - slow and steady. Others have listened more than speaking - slow and steady. And still others have found the key to his heart to help him unlock the God-given potential sitting within - just waiting to be discovered. 

I can vividly remember his third grade year as though it was yesterday… Taking him to the court for an hour lesson. Fifty-eight minutes of the coach saying, “No, do it again. And again. And again…” concluding with the final two minutes, “Good job today…” Every once in a while, he would leave that court close to tears. Frustrated. Miserable. Defeated. 

Sometimes on bad days, after the coach would leave, I would put his headphones on him and play his favorite piece of music (at the time)  - the war song in the Chronicles of Narnia. He would stand in the same spot he had stood for the past sixty minutes and I would say, “Hit. Look above the net. Find the glory of God within you and hit. Not for me, not for your coach, not for yourself… but for your Creator. If you’re meant to play this sport well - you have to start with His glory.” 

He had such a good heart and still does… He would follow every single instruction just like I said, and usually after only five or ten minutes, a light would come over his face and he would sigh, come back to his bag, put his racket away, smile and say, “We can go now.” 

I don’t know how many times this happened - more than just a few… but I can tell you that sometimes I would hold my breath waiting to see, “Is this right? Are we pushing him too far?” I trusted his heart and I trusted him, even at such a young age, that he would help us know what was right. 

At one point, the self-talk of failure and inability became the loudest voice he heard. In prudence, we closed the chapter of tennis in his life. We could not risk the voice of his failures being the only voice he heard. 

So he and his crazy little sister took up fencing… That was a nightmare! More often than not they would grab anything and everything they could use to parry - causing mayhem and craziness everywhere. But the slow and steady, intricate footwork forced an awareness within that served him well. Slowly, over time, he began to find his footing. Not just physically, but within. He began to excel. He became bored - 

One day after about two years of this tedious, steady sport - he was invited by one of the best coaches in our area to join a recreational tennis team. We waited to see his response. This was not our decision to make. Dan accepted, joined the team, and had an amazing summer. Something had shifted. Changed. He had grown up. Grown out of defeat… 

Not too long after that, it was time for high school tennis and that’s a long long story for another day. 

At every competition, I can see how he’s grown. Developed. Not just in height or in his tennis skills - but in maturity and character. In between sets when his coach calls him over to give him some advice - sometimes I catch a glimpse of that little 3rd grader again. Listening. 

Not just with his ears - but with his heart. He believes the words his coach is giving him are good… they will help develop him. Sometimes the coach asks him to do something that Dan understands but can’t execute. It’s not that the coach is wrong - but Dan isn’t yet able. He nods in agreement - quietly, respectfully, and with honor as his coach speaks. 

Oh that I would follow the heart of my son! Who knows where to find wisdom and good instruction! That I would come to the table willing to learn. That I would remember that God’s heart watches over my every coming and going. He asks good things of me - because they’re right. He instructs me on how to live because His plan for me is good. 

And more often than not, I need to continue to learn the discipline of surrender. To lay down my ways for His… To hear the music of his heart playing deep within me. To practice surrendering over and over - and over and over - and over and over… until I find His glory. 

To nod in agreement, quietly and respectfully, as my Coach speaks - “For my glory!”