Coy Girl

With a deep sigh, I shake my head. "Why doesn't she get it?" comes my upset thoughts to myself. Wind lifts her hair in long strands,as she just slowly trots down the soccer field. More interested in the butterflies in the grass than what's going on around her. I rub my hand across an already worried brow over the financial cares of the day. Struggling to relax and watch the game, I wish so hard that it came easy to her. She never has been outgoing. Always shy and timid, almost like a doe. I become so frustrated at her in my heart. Other kids are just running around her on the field. I know she's young, but I'm so scared that somewhere in life others will run her over. "Lord, what can I do then?" I won't always be here to shield her from the cold realities of life. Her coach has made numerous attempts to get her to kick the ball. She walks up to the ball at the line. With a coy look, she barely draws back her leg and tips it. It slowly moves up the field before being picked up by a quicker player. She hangs back in the background, almost trying to hide on the open field. This goes on like this for an excruciating hour on my part. I encourage her, applaud her, and pep talk her. All to no avail. When the prayer is given toward the end, the gentleman who stands up speaks with a soft voice. A voice coming from experience as he recounts a personal story. In the story, he speaks of a sick patient he cared for. The patient realized toward the end of her terminal illness that her accolades, glories, and superiority to other people didn't matter at the end. He then made reference to some children may be better athletes than some, and parents push this as the most important thing. But he reminds us of the small child who struggles. God gives them the ball, and their small effort is mightier than all the trophies accomplished by the gifted. In this moment, I think of my daughter. How many disadvantages she's overcome is quite a feat for her. I feel his prayer was put in my way to get me to think. For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required:Luke 12:48 Her efforts are monumental in comparison to others. Is this where her destiny lies with soccer? Probably not. Is this where God makes me realize things about my soul searching? Definitely, yes. Can fathers be wrong? You bet. Most of all I'm still a son in need of guidance from a Heavenly Father's invisible hand.

by

Lance Gargus