Playing for Keeps

I watched a really terrible movie tonight. The movie was called "Playing for Keeps". It's about a retired soccer player coming back into the picture and coaching his son's soccer team. While coaching he falls back in love with his ex-wife. The soccer dad is super attractive and desirable...even though he is severely in debt and lacks stability in his life. The movie ends with the two love birds reuniting and playing soccer under one roof with their freckle faced son. The movie is terrible because the plot is so predictable. Even the title gives it away. I usually love romantic comedies...they give me a warm glow and butterflies in my tummy. At the end of a movie I've usually got some ridiculous smile on my face and a stupid love song stuck in my head. However, after watching this romantic comedy, I found myself crying in my bed under a mountain of blankets feeling sorry for myself. This movie brought back a lot of memories surrounding my childhood.

I grew up playing soccer because my dad was the coach. My dad loves the sport. We have every soccer channel, magazine subscription and jersey you could ever want or need. I loved soccer for a long time...but I'm not sure it was ever the sport I was crazy about. I didn't like to be dirty or pushed around by other people on the field. I think I loved it so much because it was something my dad and I could do together. My dad was my coach for my entire soccer career, from age 5-15. There were days we would go to the park and play...just the two of us, for hours. We would race home and he would always let me beat him to the front door so I could say I won. When we drove home from the park or the field we would ride with the windows down and the country music would play on the radio in the background. We would travel together. I would talk and he would listen or turn up the music. We would go on dates together to Mexican places and stop for ice cream - even if it was before dinner! My dad was my number one fan and I could do no wrong.

As I got older, the sport became more time consuming and intense - the girls weren't very nice and things became entirely too competitive. My heart wasn't in the sport - it was in the time spent with my dad. I remember talking to my mom about not wanting to play, but needing to play so that my dad and I could have something in common. One day she took me to Owls Creek and signed me up for my first tennis lesson. I was taught by this crazy guy named Wayne who had Barbie blonde hair, a super fake tan and said "okay" waaaay too many times. After one lesson I was able to serve, rally and master a couple ground strokes. He said I was a natural. A month later I made the high school tennis team. Three years later I walked onto the Roanoke College tennis team and played competitively. You know the best part of it all? My dad never missed a match. Both of my parents would come to all my high school matches and watch me clobber other girls...but my dad would drive all over the state to watch me play matches in college. I remember one match in particular. We were playing Randolph Macon. The girl I was playing was better than I was. I was down by two games. My dad was standing right behind the gate watching my every move. Tennis is played with a racket and a ball and takes place on the court and in your head. You can hit winners on the court, but you can't win if you're heads in another place. I hit a winner and my dad stood up from his chair and said "THAT'S IT KATIE". A smile spread across my face and I continued to hit winners and take back the match. I won that match very soundly - not because I was better...but because I wanted it more.

 

Your parents are supposed to love you - they're your parents. I realize that this is not as cut and dry as I make it seem. I was blessed with a family that supports me and loves me. I was blessed with parents that wanted me to be happy and helped me succeed. My parents were and are my number one fans in every move I make. Things are a little different now because I don't play much tennis anymore. I came home tonight and started talking to my dad about my technology and society writing class. The class is super dry - it's hard to get excited about the effects of technology when it's being taught by a man who's as old as the dinosaurs (just saying). I pulled out my homework assignment that said "excellent work, Katie". My dad jokingly told me to stick it on the fridge and that he'd get around to framing it. It was just a homework grade that barely counts for anything...but my dad smiled wide and read every word I wrote. The devotion tonight comes from Ruth 1:14-21. The passage is about Naomi and Ruth. Naomi lost her husband and both her sons. She felt like God had abandoned her when really he provided a gift in Ruth. God often uses others to show His love, mercy and presence.

My dad is incredible. He takes care of us all. He takes even better care of my mom. I thought my mom was selfless before, but she could learn a thing or two from my dad. I think I believe that we were created in God's image because I see a lot of God in my dad. He's strong, supportive and provides unconditional love. While my dad sucks at showing affection...he's a loyal friend and one of the most kind-hearted people you'll ever meet. When the cancer saga was unfolding in Roanoke, he was the only one who had faith. After the first 24 hours I stood in the lobby with my head buried in my dad's chest . He kept hugging me tighter and tighter telling me that God has a plan. My dad's never been vocal about his feelings, emotions or faith. I'm 22 and I've never heard him mention anything about God and his faith...at least not without being asked first. I still remember the shock factor from his "God has a plan" speech. You know when you're little and people tell you that if you're in an emergency to call 911? If you've ever had to call 911 in an emergency, you know that number gets a little harder to remember and it's not as clear what you should do. Having faith in the midst of a crisis is the same way. Eventually, you figure out what number to call - just like I've figured out my new type of relationship with God. My dad didn't stop believing in me when I switched sports...and God didn't give up on me when I gave up on Him. Instead God turned to my dad - He knew I'd listen to him.

God hasn't abandoned my family. He's provided some challenges and some specific people to help us get through it. So many people go through crap in their lives and most don't go through it alone. We don't have to. Let me say that again. We don't have to go through the crap alone. God provides people for a couple months, many years and sometimes for a few minutes. He gives us what we need...it may not be what you want or what we think is helpful...but in God's way it is part of the plan. While my life will never be predictable like the romantic comedy I watched tonight, I do know that God plays for keeps too.