Does God Wear Black and White Stripes

Having raised our 5 in Christian School, I obviously missed out on the way the "other half" play sports.  I don't say that in a bad way, I just had no idea of the excitement, scary as it is, how the parents and fans in other school arenas have a whole new sporting event happening along the sidelines and in the stands.

At our school, it was pretty much understood that we needed to mind our manners during a game.  After all, we wanted to be good witnesses to the teams we were playing.  We liked to pretend there was no "trash talk" going on on the field and if there was, surely it wasn't our sons talkin' it.  And I'm sure it was my imagination the few times that I saw the coach's head about to explode as one of the players hadn't done whatever the player was supposed to have done.  How awkward was that when the stands got quiet and that's all you heard, a screaming adult in the face of a kid.  I'm glad it wasn't my kid who was the recipient of that or I would have had to climb over bodies and march myself right onto that field and stop that foolishness.  No one yells at my kid 'cept me.  But overall, the players, coaches and even us parents were all pretty controlled and minded our p's and q's.

But the other night, I ventured into new territory.  Wyatt is playing basketball with UPWORDS, and might I add he's really good, so I thought it would be fun to take him to a high school game.  A friend of ours is a star player for a local  school so I knew Wyatt would enjoy watching him.  Wyatt was a little confused as to why he couldn't go down on the court with Isaiah because after all, when his uncles played at SACS, he was the star nephew and always got to hang around on the field. Sorry Wyatt.

 Wyatt and Uncle Will

But as the game began, so did the excitement.  I could hardly watch the game because of the whole new sporting event in the stands.  Fans yelling at fans, parents yelling at the players and oh my word, the poor guys that wear the black and white stripes, who wants that job anyway?????  And can I make a suggestion?  Could we possibly separate the fans?  It would have been a whole lot less stressful if the fans could sit on opposite sides of the gym, not 2 feet away from each other.  Me, being a peacemaker and an avoider of all awkward situations, almost had a heart attack sitting in the midst of opposing moms yelling at each other.  I would look at one screaming  mom and smile and then look at a different screaming mom and smile, all the while afraid for my life. I eventually stopped making eye contact. I can relate because we are all so passionate about our sports and our kids, but really?  I kept slinking lower and lower into my bleacher in case a riot erupted and I would have to squeeze through the bleacher seats with Wyatt to escape death.  And to repeat myself, who in the world would ever decide one day that they wanted to grow up to be a referee? Who wants to get yelled out and have their eyesight and credentials questioned?  Who?  In my mind, you never argue with the referee, what he says goes.  I saw different extremes during the game as far as the ref went.  Some kids totally ignored him and got in his face while others had utmost respect for him and his position and authority.  The fans did the same.  As I watched one young man getting called down by the ref, he immediately stopped what he was doing and gave the ref his total respect and attention, I took notice of him and how he and the ref interacted. But then I also saw the opposite and wondered why the ref just didn't make that gesture where he crosses his arms and yells, "Youuuu   are   oooout    ooooof   here".  (that's supposed to be really long and drawn out, get it?)

So here was my take away from that night.  My first silly thought was does God wear a black and white shirt?  Probably not.  My other thoughts were do I show total respect for Him and follow what He says or do I get in His face and argue my brains out with Him, trying to convince Him my way is better than His?  Yelling and screaming and kicking my feet, thinking that I know better, questioning His eyesight.  Am I like the young man who heard the referee blow his whistle and stopped and listened with utmost respect or like the masses working themselves up into a frenzy, wanting the game to be played their way?  Unfortunately, too many times I am probably, no not probably, I am the second, wanting my game to go my way, not the way of the perfect Authority who knows best, the author and perfecter of my faith.

I am so thankful that my Heavenly Father never puts his black and white referee shirt on, waves His arms in front of Him  and yells, "Cathy, You are out of here". Instead, I know that nothing will be able to separate me from His love. Even when I want the game to go according to my own plans.

Being ever so thankful,  keep giggling, its great medicine.

Cathy

Plug This "Thangy" Into This "Thangy"

What is it even called?  Why didn't I learn all these technical names and words? Why does it have to be so complicated?  I just want to turn the switch and have it come on, push the button and have it appear, plug it in and have it work.  Why can't I just point to "that thang" and it will describe it all and everyone will understand what it is????  Alas, I think technology has passed me by and I can't catch up.  I have too few words left and even less gray matter to grasp it all, I can't even figure out which remote to use to turn on the dumb TV or the video or the VCR "thang".

I was reminded of this a few days ago when I was in Fredricksburg at mom's house.  We were enjoying a technology free day when little sister Janet called on my cell and wanted to know why mother's phone wasn't working.  Our sweet little mom has several phones laying around, when you're 94 you can have whatever laying around that you want, and usually has one  phone in her pocket.  Perhaps, me thinks, they've been left off the "thangy" and the battery is dead.  So I venture over and start collecting phones seeing if there are any dial tones.  Nada, nothing, not happning.  I look at it, nothing, push a button, nothing, look at it again, nothing, push a button, nothing,  look at it again, still nothing. Then go pick up another extension and repeat the same.  Still nothing.  That's it, that's the extent of my knowledge.  I thought about going outside and yelling for any child to come help because they usually know more than I do.  But I didn't want to look like the crazy old woman that yells at kids from her front steps.  Where are my nephews when I need them? Mom's telephone is her best friend so I didn't want to alarm her but I had to ask who her phone carrier was so perhaps they could help.  So when we figured out who had her "bundle", ( TV, internet, phone, plumbing, electricity, water ), just kidding,  I called them hoping that they would just say, "oh, yes,honey,  you just hang up that sweet phone and I'll push this button and your phone will be back on and ready to go and you won't have to do anything."  Not the case.  As I began my wary approach into mom's room where I knew all the phone lines and emergency " help I've fallen and can't get up" line and computer lines are all found, I start hearing the music from the movie Jaws in my head. Can you hear it? Dun dun.  Dun dun.   Dun dun  Dundundundundundundun.....
A slow dread began ascending on me,  I knew what was waiting for me under the bed. Dundundundun 

"Don't be afraid of the enemy !  Remember the Lord, who is great and glorious"  Nehemiah 4:14

 

 

 

 

 

 I can't even begin to tell you the conversation that followed.  I have blocked it out of my mind.  All I remember is I knew I was in trouble when the phone lady  started using terms like................well I can't even come up with the words she was using, but they were all those plug in "thangs".  She had to explain which black box I was having to look at and which plugs should be plugged where. 

Why so many different kinds of plugs?

At one point I had to say, ok, nice helper, this plug looks like a "thang" that I would plug into the wall if it were a lamp plug, is that what you mean?  I'm sure she was rolling her eyes.  Mom was right there assisting me with the whole experience.  At one point, I was hearing in one ear, " Ok, Mrs. Chesser, unplug blah blah and then plug the blah blah blah blah blah".  In the other ear I was hearing " Tell her that I am 94 and can not be without my phone because if something happened to me I would need to call someone to come and help me".  And then right in the middle of that blessing, my body started heating up from the inside out and an oh so sweet hot flash ripped through my body. Dun  dun  dun  dun  dun  dun     Dundundundundundundundun  

Good news is, I was able to change around a couple of phones so that they would work until a technician could get there to help us fix our "thangs".

AND ALL GOD'S PEOPLE SAID AMEN.

Keep laughing, laughter is good medicine.