Dealing with Disappointment

Earlier in May, Samuel and Elliot began their first “try out” process ever. They are trying out for the “travel” or “rep” team.  There were 35 some kids who tried out, 12 make ‘A team (no black vans needed),’ and 12 make ‘B team.’ The rest are ‘C team’ which may or may not actually be a team. This much we were told at the first of three try outs.

This process has been more difficult for me than it has been for either of them combined! The tryout process was hard enough, but then came the news that neither of them made the A team. This was a blow. Of course I had to sort through, is this a blow to me since (of course) the world revolves around me and everything (including stuff that doesn’t include me) directly reflects on  me in some way. OR is it a blow since it’s just sad for them. (Or maybe a little of both).

It was sad to watch my boys’ eyes as they grasped for the emotional fortitude to deal with disappointment. Now, this isn’t the first time they’ve suffered loss or disappointment, but this is the first time that something reflected on them and their abilities.

While this was sad and hard, it also was good. It opened up the opportunity for me to sit my six year old Elliot on my lap and tell him that confidence comes from within us—not from the outside (from others). It comes from knowing, even despite what others think sometimes, that we are good. That confidence ultimately comes from God, and that God has given him a special gift. And that, even if these coaches don’t see it, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have it.

It gave me a chance to talk to them about my basketball….um…..career. About how I got beat out by this other kid for varsity for a year, and then the next sat the bench watching him play.  We talked about how this made me feel, and how it made me better as a person and a player.

You see what’s strange is that as you grow up there come times (often ones that are thrust upon you not by your own doing) of perspective. Times when the bubble you live in is burst and you are forced to face a new reality either about yourself or about the world. My kids have always been among the very best on their soccer team and even their league.  ANd now, all of the sudden, they couldn’t make the A team. Powerless to stop it, I sat by and watched one of their little bubbles burst.

So, in the end, I believe this is good. Adversity often yields a greater harvest than ease. And to our great joy, they both made the B team. Yay! So they will both keep playing, and keep learning.  And Dad will keep trying to let go, one little bit at a time.

Mountain biking and the tension of parenthood

I had a great day today. Really.  One of those days where you sit down after it’s all done and just say “thank you.” My greatest days often involve me getting to be with Mandy and the kids all day, and that was true again today. We started with soccer games (always fun!), then played at home, mowed the lawn (yes my kids like to help!), went biking at the creek, got pizza, and watched a movie together!

What I want to talk about though, was my biking adventure. I’ve been wanting to take Samuel and Elliot “mountain biking” on some trails at Fair Hill for a while now.  So today, we did it.  It was awesome. We finished completely covered in dirt, exhausted, bleeding, and happy.  And loving each other.

But as part of this experience, I also endured this tension that often besieges me as a parent. I am a very safety conscious guy, and also have some healthy fears of traumatic events happening. Along with that, I also have a desire to not shelter my kids, and help them learn to experience the daring side of life.

So today, I decided to stretch my boys a little.  I took them on a winding bike path. The further we went, the more scared Elliot got. It got smaller. There were roots. Trees on both sides.  And then, all the sudden, we were biking on a tiny trail with a pretty steep drop off to the left.  That’s when Elliot put his foot down.

It was heart breaking. I saw in his eyes the desire to do what Daddy was doing, but at the same time too much fear to ignore anymore. “I’m not going anymore Daddy!” So we turned around and found a wider, safer trail. Sadly, on the way back  through the smaller trail, Elliot wiped out.  Argh.

Now, away from all the fun, I’m thinking about that trail on top of the drop off, and I’m thinking about my little 8 and 6 year old boys, and I’m thinking – what they heck was a I thinking?!?! What if he had fallen down that drop off?  What if he had gotten seriously injured? What if I couldn’t get him help in time? 

Herein lies my struggle as a parent. I desire to help my kids live life and overcome fear, while I myself am actually plagued by fear of losing them. All my instincts are to shelter them, but I know this would most likely cause worse damage in the long run.

So I’m left walking away thanking God nothing worse happened, but having that gnawing knowledge that sometimes worse things do happen.  And there’s nothing you can do about it, but live your life.

Does anyone else struggle like this, or I am different?