God, Kick Ball and Donkey Kong
For an hour each Sunday morning, I teach my son’s Faith Formation class (i.e. Sunday school), which is made up of 15 first-graders who never cease to amaze me with their enthusiasm in learning about God’s great love.
During class, I’ve been known to stand on a chair and reenact God’s booming voice to Moses in the desert, or jump up and down when one of my students nails an answer. I sing, I dance, I do just about everything to engage these kids and make learning fun. It’s just what I do. It’s just how I am.
But on this Sunday morning, I just wasn’t feeling it. I woke up sluggish and tired, a by-product no doubt of juggling the kids and work while my husband traveled on business the week before. Whenever he’s out of town, the fatigue of running the household as a single parent usually doesn’t hit me until a couple days after he returns home. It’s like a delayed reaction so to speak. His plane landed at 5 p.m. Friday night, so by this morning, exhaustion was due to take over, and in fact, it already had overnight, in the form of stress dreams.
After downing an extra cup of coffee, I made it clear to God that if He expected me to inspire some young hearts today, then He better cough up the energy for me to do so. Feeling feisty and somewhat resentful, I drove myself and my seven-year-old son, Ian, to church (in the pouring rain, mind you), all the while focused on giving myself the reward of an afternoon nap later that day.
Not surprisingly, God came through, injecting me with the spunk needed to bring my “A” game to class. Even my co-teacher, Dan, noticed my exuberance. At the end of the hour, though, I could feel my fuel level start to run low. Afternoon nap, here I come, I thought. It won’t be long now.
But instead of walking directly to our car, Ian and a couple of his friends wanted to stop by the gymnasium for some free play before going home.
“Fine,” I moaned. “But just for a few minutes.”
A few minutes did indeed pass as I stood there weight shifted to one hip, chatting with another parent, a friend of mine, as we watched the boys put together a make-shift game of basketball. One thing turned to another and the next thing we know, the boys are playing a game of kick ball – a favorite from my childhood. I am distracted at this point as I strain to listen to my friend Jim go on about something that I can’t remember now. I look back and forth from him to the game underway, trying to concentrate on what he is telling me. And then a loose ball hurdles toward us. Instinctively, I pick it up and hurl is back. An older boy looks at me and comments, “Wow. Nice throw.”
Next thing I know, my friend Jim and I are right in the middle of the game. Another dad joins us. It’s now kids versus parents. The game is on like Donkey Kong.
And just like that I become a kid again, catching fly balls, trying to throw the kids out, running in my Sunday clothes, breaking a sweat, sliding in my spring sandals bejeweled with bling.
I am having fun. I am experiencing pure joy. I am that young girl again, with all the energy in the world and the endurance of a Cheetah. (OK, perhaps that’s taking it too far.)
As my glasses start slipping down my nose from perspiration, Ian tugs on my shirt and tells me he’s hungry. Really hungry. I look at my watch and it’s indeed after lunch time.
“Just one more play,” I tell him.
Now he’s the one who moans.
One more play turns into three, and at this point, Ian is keeled over on the sideline, acting like he is dying. Oh, he’s being so dramatic, I say to myself. Just like me.
So we leave. The other players whine. The game was just getting good.
On the way home I’m feeling peppy. I crank the music. Ian tells me again that he’s hungry and indeed, dying. I feel energized. When we get home, I tell my husband what we did. An impromptu game of kick ball … after Sunday school … on a raining day … in our nice clothes. How cool is that?
And now, hours after Sunday school has ended, I am writing – still. In fact, I’ve written all afternoon – without a nap. That game of kick ball was just the thing I needed. It allowed the little girl inside of me to kick up her heels, catch a few balls and nail a few outs. And just like that, I am tired no more.
Until tomorrow, of course.
God Bless you, Stephanie! Those boys are so lucky to have you for their Mother! I don’t have children, but I’m not sure I could have found the energy that you manage to fine, day after day. I used to, while living in West Texas for nearly 20 years and working cattle, raising 8 dogs, a goat (who thought she was a dog), a horse, ducks, turtles & a pond full of koi & goldfish and running a helping run a dirt construction business at the same time. But not any more! Thank goodness I don’t have to! Have a wonderful week. May the writing Gods be kind to you.
The life you had back in West Texas was very unique, but I don’t think anyone can sustain that sort of schedule without some serious physical and mental fatigue. That said, your West Texas experience built within you amazing character, depth and strength. I picked up on that the first time I met you. When Stan married you, we gained another strong woman in the Saye family, and for that, I am thankful.
Now let’s get you set up on your very own cake-decorating blog!
I don’t know about a cake-decorating blog, but I’d love to have a cake-decorating business!
My bad. I meant ‘helping run a dirt construction business’.
This is a perfect post. I love the reminder that engaging with life may be more energizing than a nap. I am hoping that’s true for me today. Also, I realized I love when you talk about your relationship to/with God. It seems being in an active relationship with God invokes lots of feelings in other people. (Some people hate Tim Tebow simply because of his overt devotion to his god.). I think it’s brave and soothing that you discuss this. Thank you.
Thank you, Christie. I’ve actually struggled with revealing too much about my relationship with God on this blog. Just admitting that though makes me feel a little like Simon Peter, the disciple who denied Christ three times before the cock crowed. (We just studied that in Sunday school so it’s fresh on my mind.) But I can no longer deny that faith has become a big part of my life. There’s just too many things I’m doing that are tied to it now. There were years, however, when I was a complete stranger to the Church – and to God for that matter. But over the last two years or so, I’ve been drawn to God in a whole different way. No one has forced me, or preached to me, or guilted me into it. Out of desperation to feel better emotionally, I started praying, for I saw prayer as my last resort. And literally overnight, signs started appearing out of nowhere reassuring me of God’s love – and that’s the piece that’s been missing for me all these years. Then I ran across a book I had purchased 7 years before by Joyce Meyer called Approval Addiction and it literally changed my outlook on myself, others and God. That said, I want to be respectful of other people’s faith journey … because the last thing I want to do is force my faith down people’s throats. Everyone has their individual stories and what works for me, might not work for others. But as faith continues to play a larger role in my life, I can’t help but acknowledge the difference it is making for me as a person – and as a writer. Call it coincidence, but as my faith has been renewed (or awakened rather), I’ve gained tremendous confidence, which has helped me to finally start living my true calling as an author. Without it, I’d still be a closet novelist, feeble and powerless, just waiting around to be discovered, instead of getting out there and making it happen on my own.
As always, I cherish your comments and feedback.
Great post. As a teacher I can tell you that some days are harder to turn it on than others. But you have too. It’s not the kids’ fault that you’re tired or down. You have to bring your A game every day.
Tim, you are so right. I’ve been teaching Sunday school for two years now, and I’m always exhausted when I get home. And that’s just after an HOUR! So I can’t imagine bringing my “A” game five days a week from 7-4, and then having all those papers to grade and phone calls to parents to return in the evening. WOW. Teachers have the most important job in the world. Too bad our society doesn’t compensate them accordingly. I’d like to know how many Big Business CEOs could hang in there even for an hour. Not many, I’m sure. Thanks for stopping by, my friend!
And I still put away time to write. Yay.
Do you get up early? Or stay up late?
Late for me.
Mine’s early morning. At night I’m too tired.