Scream louder

I love being screamed at.

Especially while driving.

Thankfully, it was just me and him. This time, his siblings were spared the peripheral damage.

For no real reason. That’s often how it is. There’s no inciting incident, just some bottled up rage that had to come out full force and full volume on the way home from karate.

  • Maybe because he came in 3rd place out of 4 losing to lower belts during sparring practice?
  • Or because he was up past his bedtime last night?
  • Or because he refused to eat the string cheese–I knew he was hungry and so did he!
  • Or because I just could NOT understand or correctly answer the absolutely off the wall question he was repeatedly asking me over and over…and louder and louder…
  • Or, most devastatingly, for no reason at all.

Because something inside him said, “you’re angry, let ‘er rip”. No matter that it’s your wonderful, sweet, loving, patient, takes so much crap from you and keeps coming back in for a hug mom.

I’m learning how important self-care and hope is in this season. I end up the brunt of misplaced and unprovoked anger, frustration and unkindness. And later when I’m still trying to just breathe and he doesn’t even remember doing it…or just won’t admit it. Dear Jesus, please take the wheel! I’ll be curled up in the trunk hiding from the monster…

Looking forward to some more specific answers beyond four letters in the near future. ADHD. It’s so much bigger than its little acronym lets on…

We’ve recruited an entire team to help us from every angle. All the people! All the things!

Yet, this alone space…it’s so loud and complex here.

So until we figure out how to connect and support each other, carry on beleaguered warriors. I have to believe the fight for this one is worth the bruises.

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Sideline

This weekend my son’s soccer team, the Blasters, suffered a blistering loss. The score was a nil to we-stopped-keeping-count kind of a situation.

After the final whistle, parents were going over to the team  to pick up their player and saying things like “great game, Blasters”, and telling each player “you did such a good job”. I wondered if these parents had taken their eyes off their smart phones for one minute to take a peek at same game I had just watched, because it was NOT a great game. 90% of the players were barely even trying after the second goal had been scored on them. I was trying not to judge the parents praising the team, but I’ll admit that I did. I’m careful about my words, so after a poorly played game like today, I used candid phrases like “thanks for playing today” or “thank you for trying”. If you did a good job, I’ll tell you. If you didn’t, I’m not gonna lie to you.

The reality was, the team played horribly. The kids weren’t communicating, they weren’t hustling, they weren’t playing their positions, they didn’t have their heads in the game, and they were clearly not committed to or even attempting to win the game. The saddest part is that even the coach gave up and by the fourth quarter of the game the entire team, except for the goalie, was playing front line on the offense. No one was telling the players what position they were supposed to be playing, so chaos ensued leaving the goal unprotected allowing the other team to rapid-fire score against them until the final whistle blew and put an end to the misery.

After the game, Dan and I found ourselves brusquely tossing out orders for the kids to get in the van then practically road-rage driving home.

We were disappointed. Not because we lost, but because this team holds a LOT of potential and it was frustrating to watch them suffer and struggle and give up so quickly and easily. Without direction and guidance, there’s nothing but chaos and defeat.

I’m sure God knows just how I felt today. He’s my biggest fan, seeing me as totally FULL of potential, skilled, practicing, knowledgeable about how to play the game and committed to the team. He comes to every game and sometimes cheers as I do my part to play hard or even help steer my team to victory. But sometimes He suffers through watching me run out of steam, heading for the sidelines, not listening to the coach, or worse, off doing my own thing.

God doesn’t get mad at me. God doesn’t give up on me. He keeps coaching, directing, disciplining, encouraging, examining, guiding, explaining, waiting, challenging, growing, believing.

Although today was just brutal to watch, it gave me a new depth of insight into God as my Father and how he relates to me as his little soccer player. It was good for me to feel what I felt today. It’s a poignant reminder of how I don’t want to let down my biggest fan.