Rough morning at hockey today. Our team lost 7-1. The other team scored twenty seconds into the game, and our only goal barely made it ~ four seconds before the game ended. And that one goal was scored by my boy.
It was a modest accomplishment, to be sure. No one leaves a 7-1 loss joyful about the one. But everyone was glad we weren’t shut out, and I was glad for my boy’s achievement. He’s had a good deal of success since starting ice hockey last summer, but there’s been a dearth of goals for him the past few games. So I was glad he scored again.
And I was proud of him. Proud of all of them, actually, that they kept trying, even though they were down by several goals ~ and proud of him for succeeding.
I wonder if God feels about our accomplishments, the way we do about our kids’. Their sports achievements, their academic triumphs, seeing them excel in their gifts or talents. I’ve got memories of my kids’ accomplishments that are more precious to me than my own accomplishments!
It’s different of course, for Him. He is our ability, our strength, our smarts. He knows we cannot accomplish anything without Him. We can’t make that same claim with our kids.
It’s all about love, though, really. To love someone is to grieve when they grieve, and celebrate their joys as if they were yours. Which is why I’m pretty darn sure that in good times or bad, He is not only by our sides, He’s fully understanding, and feeling everything we feel.