Reflections from the Stands

Each of the children chose a different Winter/Spring activity: K gymnastics, R baseball and P basketball. I realize this is going to make for a crazy family schedule, but the children are excited about pursuing their own things.

Tonight I accompanied P to basketball practice for the first time. As K, R & I sat in the stands I found myself overwhelmed by emotion. My P is the smallest of the 8 children on his coed team. He is also the least coordinated, but he doesn't realize it. He is enjoying himself (for the first half of the game anyway...then he tends to get bored.)

As I watched him twirl around the court, running at the end of the pack, awkwardly trying to keep up during the drills--all with an enthusiastic grin on his face--my heart was swollen with love and thanksgiving.

I am protective of my P--and the label he carries. I don't want people to define him by a diagnosis. Yet, as the other parents giggled at his antics and quirkiness, clearly entertained moreso than being malicious, there was a part of me that wanted to tell all the other parents (none of whom I have ever met) what a miracle this little man is.

I sat quietly in the stands with tears welling and a heart full of love, but inside I was shouting, "That little guy was 13 inches long and 2lbs 6 ozs!! He had all kinds of scary diagnoses that seemed to point to real physical struggles! There was a point where we wondered if he would even walk. Do you have ANY IDEA how amazing it is that he is running up and down that court with that goofy grin?"

As much as I wanted to, I didn't do that. I just silently praised and thanked His Creator instead.

I marvelled at how amazing it is to be a parent. I rejoiced that love means being proud of things other people would never understand. I thanked God for the perspective all these years of physical therapy have given me. I revelled in the fact that P is having fun and does not seem to recognize any differences.

I couldn't help but think about how God sees me. My run through this game of life is frequently marked by awkward moments and a lack of coordination or skill. I am not the fastest or the highest scorer in this game of life--but I am running with enthusiasm. I cannot help but think of my Father in Heaven--not comparing me to the other kids on the team, but cheering me on with great love.