“skillful in playing”
1 Samuel 16:18
We’re entering a new season in our family ~ literally. My boy has finished another season of hockey, and when the new season starts, it will be on a new team, with a new coach, in a new rink.
We’re looking forward to some aspects of the change. He’s getting older, so this team is more like “the real thing” ~ jerseys, socks, etc. As opposed to the “just get a black jersey” method that his current team uses. Low budget.
And though he’ll have a new coach ~ which can be anxiety-inducing when you’ve had the same coach for several seasons ~ his new coach is someone that the Apple of my Eye used to play with in college. So there is a little familiarity there. Not a complete stranger.
Another of the good things is the schedule. While we’re not entirely sure when games and practices will be, we are sure that they will no longer be at 7:00 on Sunday mornings. Which means we can all stop getting up while it’s still dark, which means we’ll all no longer drag our way through our Sunday afternoons.
Honestly, I love watching my son play hockey, but Sundays have been hard for me. I’m not a morning person to begin with, and sitting still through church, I find myself trying hard to focus instead of looking forward to my Sunday afternoon nap.
Well, a friend of mine said something surprising to me recently ~ surprising in light of my Sunday schedules. It was Mothers’ Day, actually. We were already sitting down when some friends of ours arrived and sat in the same row we were in. The mom and I gave each other a hug hello and wished each other a whispered Happy Mothers’ Day. Then she added with a smile, “You bless me so much.”
I was shocked. We don’t very often see each other outside of church ~ sometimes but not a lot ~ which means that for the most part, when she sees me, I’m far from my best. We smile at each other during church and then chat a bit afterwards, and all the while I’m just thinking about getting home and lying down.
Did I mention that I’m really not a morning person?
So I figure one of two things is happening here: Either she is so pleasant and so sweet that she’s oblivious to how cranky I’m feeling…. Or the Holy Spirit is intervening. He’s protecting me and shielding her.
And actually, it doesn’t really surprise me. That’s what He does. She is a lovely woman, so understanding and willing to forgive that she doesn’t even notice the little things around her that might need forgiveness. And she gets that from Him. I, on the other hand, need help from Him on Sunday mornings. I need grace. And I’m clearly getting it.
If I were on my own, the real me would come through. Fortunately, everything good comes from Him. Including the good in me.