Friday Night Football Games

This year I have a new job and another that I haven't done for many years.  I agreed to help on the chain gang for the JV football games.  Haven't done this task since college.  I asked a friend with a grandson on the team to help, advertising to him that he'll never get a better seat to watch his grandson play.  He bit, and it's been a great time.  And we get paid with dinner to boot.

After the first game, I got asked to also be a spotter for the announcer.  I get to sit up in the pressbox and call out numbers or names of players involved in each particular play.  Not rocket science, but another job adults perform that make it possible for young people to have a game.

This past Friday our school was playing another local team and I started thinking about how blessed I and my family have been.  It was thirteen summers ago that our oldest son was hit by a car while riding his bike.  He was in a coma for 6 days, and 6 weeks in the area children's hospital until he was able to to come home.  Rehabilitation continued for quite a while and we learned that some things would never return the same.  We have been blessed with a son that, though he lost hearing in one ear and has a different personality, has been with us these thirteen years.

While we were living at the hospital we met many wonderful people and experienced the goodness of our community through their help.  We saw the dedicated kindness of the staff that treated the patients with mercy and good, even when the patient didn't always earn that effort.  We went through the tragedy of the drowning of a young man from our town, seeing community members come then leave as that untimely death unfolded at the hospital.  We also met other parents and shared moments of joy and sadness.

Through it all we have felt blessed.  We watched our son graduate from high school then college.  We watched him marry his sweetheart.  We have watched him go through the highs and lows of life.  So I was feeling blessed last Friday to be watching this football game against this particular school because a couple we met in the hospital had a son playing for this school.

For the first time in thirteen years I reintroduced myself to the father and mother. This man helped coach the football team and many times I started across the field to talk to him.  Each time I stopped for various reasons.  Friday I didn't stop. For about a week thirteen years ago, we spent time with this couple when we both weren't tending to our children in the hospital. Then the situation changed.  Our son stayed in the hospital and their son went home, to God.   Evan was six months old when he died.

So Friday night as I hesitantly walked up to the father, I was anxious. I shouldn't have been. I introduced myself and said some things. He called his wife over and we all talked.  We talked about their children and his coaching.  They asked about our son and what he's done and is doing.  What a wonderful example of grace.  As we parted and I walked away I had the distinct feeling of being blessed by others actions.

I was reminded that I am continually blessed, even if I don't recognize it.