Last night, our smalltown held a “Meet the Cards” Night in our high school gym where every fall middle school, high school team—and player—were announced and introduced to all who came to see.
It is our oldest two’s first year as high schoolers.
We arrive late and sit near the rafters—great view of the gym and spaced from the heavier crowds below.
Shortly after sitting down, another woman we know arrives—still in her work clothes of nursing care. We welcome her. She sits beside, and she and my wife start in immediately to talking.
I coached her son in youth football. He was one of our standout players—and still is. He’s learning to drive, and I listen to his mother’s fear, terror, and after laughing of their first driving lesson together.
“He still has dreams of playing in the NFL,” his mom says.
To some, it might sound extravagant. Maybe it is, but I am not one to discount dreams. Why shouldn’t it happen? Work and go for what you want!
Sitting on the bleachers near rafters of gym, I think back to my old high school days and sports.
I never wanted to play in the NFL. My dream was to play in college—and I did.
In a closet of my parents’ basement, there is picture and story from kindergarten when I drew and wrote what I hoped to be when I grew up—a football player. Notre Dame was my favorite team. In the drawing, I am playing football. There are two teams, both with golden helmets; one in navy jerseys and the other team in white. One is Notre Dame. On the other—Navy.
The dream came true, I played in that game—but for the second team. I didn’t know it then but, already, God had placed it in my dream.
Should I have been more extravagant in my dream, intentional in the soul-prayer dreams sometimes seem to be? Did I word the dream wrong? Should I have prayed, “Dear God, I want to play for Notre Dame when I grow up,” instead of His deliberate taking me for soul word when I prayed and dreamed to play for the “Navy Blue and Gold” (God really does listen—to every detail, with smile and humor to match, all for our betterment and good). Should I have desired and wanted more?
I don’t believe so. I am happy with my dream, that by the grace and goodness of God—and lived effort towards—my dream came true.
Living the dream, God gave me four more seasons of playing and memories of a sport I love; the last—and when I chose, almost, not to play—some of the best of my whole playing sports experience.
The dream took me to a place I may have never otherwise considered, an amazing education, experiences of place; service and commission into the Marine Corps; and on a September Day—going back to see a game and, after, never intending to return—by the dream, I met my wife.
This second-dream was greater than my first and—together—we live and work on it every day (which is reason I am in this place right now, reflecting on the dream).
God placed this dream in me too.
Strange how certain memories return to us given time and place and settings and witness of others in stage of life.
I don’t know why God places the dreams we hold within us—but I believe there’s reason, even when we cannot see.
I’m not one to dismiss dreams.
Even the most fantastic hold possibility of becoming true.
I know for—by the grace of God—I’ve seen many of mine live true.
“Meet the Cards” ended, we tell the mother how nice it was to see her, and departing I say, “And we’ll be praying for you with the driving lessons!”
She holds her chest, looking up to rafters and the God that is beyond, laugh breaking from her smile as she knows she needs the help as she speaks her own end to the prayer in joviality and mirth: “LOOORD, have mercy!”
Like our dreams, there is reason too for prayers.
We need them both—like source from which they come, return, and unite us with again.