The Boy in the Black Jersey

Photo by Stu Seeger

Encouragement is a powerful medicine to the heart. Our pastor preached recently on how a word of encouragement can change a person's life, how it can cause them to take a different turn, choosing to believe that they are worth more and can do more and be more than they believed before the words of others lifted them to see above the haze of every day to see the "what could be". His words and the testimony of one of our church members to this have been knocking about in my head all week. How do I encourage others? What does it look like?

God showed me this week.

It's football season. I know this because as I walk the track at the middle school while my son practices with his soccer team, there are about a hundred young football players doing drills and practicing for upcoming games. They range from middles school boys with growing "man-bodies" all the way down to little boys that look like they are about 3rd or 4th graders. They come to practice in pads, helmets and jerseys and faithfully run through their drills.

The other night the younger boys were taking a lap around the track. I watched as a tiny little guy in a blue jersey with a number 2 on the back fell further and further behind the track. His little legs looked like pencils stuck in football cleats. The helmet seemed to sway back and forth with the strides as he struggled to keep his head from bobbing forward from the weight of it. My mother's heart broke a bit for this little guy who was so obviously undersized compared to the other boys. Would his self confidence survive the season?

Just then, another of the boys in the back of the pack, a sturdy little guy in a black jersey turned his head and saw little Number Two about 20 feet behind him. He purposely slowed his run down so Number Two could catch up to him. He turned his head and you could tell he was talking to Number Two as they ran together. At one point, as they fell further and further behind the pack, still running, he put his arm around Number Two for just a moment. The two ran together until they finished the drill and joined the rest of the team. The boy in the black jersey said a final word to little Number Two and then disappeared into the mass of boys as they lined up for stretches. It was almost as if he said, "You'll be OK now. You don't need me here right now anymore," and he let Number Two become just another member of the large football team.

Wow - what an incredible real world image of encouragement. Someone to come alongside you when you need them. Not to save you. Not to tell you it's OK to stop or give up during the hard stuff, but someone to run with you, put their arm around you, tell you you're doing a great job and then to give you the confidence that you really don't need to rely on them, you've got it in you to do the job on your own.

I doubt either of these boys will ever play in the NFL but I have no doubt that they will know the power of an encouraging word in their lives. I have been challenged to act on this lesson - as the giver and receiver.

Have I told any of you "thank you" recently for the time you take to comment on my blog? Forgive me if I haven't. Thank you for your encouraging words. Thanks to all of you who encourage me in real life and online to use my gifts and challenge me not to give up when I hit roadblocks real and perceived. Thanks to all of you who make me laugh, make me cry and keep me real as we do laps on the track of life. I hope that there are times I do the same for you and I'll be looking for chances to run with you in the days ahead.

Thanks God, for the picture of Number Two and the Boy in the Black Jersey. That was a picture just for me and I got it. (You're so cool that way!)

Well that wasn't so bad after all . . .

Two days ago I turned 40. It was looming over me for months (thanks to my baby sister who started asking in January, "What are we going to do for your 40th?" After months of badgering, I finally caved and agreed to a party.

As we got in the car to head to the shin-dig, my stomach was a mess. Literally - I felt sick. I don't have parties, I give parties. I'm not the guest-of-honor, I'm the one planning the thing. This was so out of the norm for me, my nerves were just shot. But it was a lovely evening and I have to say, my parents and sister threw me a lovely party. They all shared memories of me (my sister's memories, not so wonderful as she shared how we used to fight and how mean I was to her - sadly, all true) but they all ended with lovely sentiments of how much they love and appreciate me now. There were embarrassing pictures, embarrassing stories but lots of laughter and fun. Many of my dear friends attended with their kids and it really was a great evening - I had fun and I'm glad I let my sister talk me into it.

I'll admit, I struggled in the days before my birthday. As I approached 40, it really felt like someone was making me a cinder-block necklace to wear. A dusty block of cement that would say to everyone who saw it, "Oh, yes, she used to be the young one, but now look at her. She's 40 now." I saw that cinder-block as a hindrance, something that would slow me down, weigh me down and forever label me as one who had her chance to dance and should now just be happy sitting on the sidelines and watching others have their day.

But now that the day has passed and I can look forward, I think I'll use that cinder-block to stand on. To see further than those younger kids around me. I'll use that better perspective to make decisions that I won't regret. I'll use the weight of that cinder-block to break down walls - ones I've created and ones others use to keep me in my place. I'll thank God for the weight of those years and all of the joy and blessings packed into them. I'll proudly wear the dust of that block in my hair, on my clothes and maybe if the urge hits me, I'll paint that block yellow or bright green or whatever color suits me on that day.

I think I'm ready for my 40's now . . . let me at 'em. Me and my new accessory.

And on the birthday front, today is N.'s 14th! Happy B-day to my baby-girl!