Friday, January 24, 2014

Traffic & Weather

"Oooh we belong together like traffic and weather, like traffic and weather"
 Fountains of Wayne

We can talk about these two subjects incessantly - with perfect strangers or the most intimate of friends - we love to talk, and especially complain, about traffic and weather.

I don’t have to contend with busy city traffic where I live, but I do spend a lot of time on the highway.  I admit I can be a bit of an impatient driver. Somehow I have justified my belief that the speed limit is a suggested guideline. So I often find myself frustrated when the vehicle in front of me is travelling below the speed limit for no apparent reason. The other day I was driving to town, following a car doing about eighty kilometres per hour, frequently braking and slowing down. The day was sunny, the roads were dry, and so I was grumbling under my breath that this guy should hurry up, or at least pick a speed and stick with it.  Then God showed me something so clearly I had to chuckle. He showed me how I was just like that car. On my faith journey through life, I frequently cruise along at a good pace, and then abruptly slow down. Usually I slow down because of fear – fear of the real challenges I will face on my life-road, or more often than not, completely imagined obstacles.  Or even worse than the car I was behind, I stop entirely. Or make a u-turn, totally disregarding God’s plan for me. Or I decide that God’s GPS must not be working and I veer off His road looking for an easier route.

I’m sure my friends, family and mentors notice my erratic life-driving, and question why I slow down so much, wander around the back roads and spin my wheels. Sometimes I simply put on the brakes, quit the engine, and lay my head on the steering wheel and cry. I forget that God is always in charge, and that He has a good plan for my life. I forget that my driving affects those people around me. What am I telling my kids about God when I give into fear, questioning my Sovereign Saviour? What do they learn from my inconsistent and often unpredictable faith journey?  What am I teaching them about other drivers? The way we handle ourselves on the road and react in traffic can be very much like the way we navigate our way through faith, life and community.

When it comes to weather, here in northern Alberta we tend to focus much of our complaining on the cold and snow. Sometimes it feels like winter begins in October and stays until the end of April. Then we have mosquito season, followed by a short glimpse of fall. But in truth we have unique seasons, in nature as in our lives. And each season has its own virtues. Its own purpose.  For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. Ecclesiastes 3.1

The cold and dark of winter can leave us tempted to stay in bed and pull the covers up over our heads. But when we venture out we see the beauty of hoar frost, sun dogs. Each one-of-a-kind snowflake reminds us that every one of God’s children is a unique creation. Even still we get to whining when it is too cold. And too hot. Too dark. Too bright. Too wet. Too dry. We, as the weather, go through transitions that can’t always be forecasted. Cold snaps break and we marvel at the warmth. Heat waves oppress and we are grateful for the refreshing rain. My hard heart has been warmed after a deep freeze. My fierce anger has been cooled by God’s grace. As the winds swirl snow across the prairie, the Holy Spirit has stirred life inside my soul. 

Just as the sun and the rain act in harmony to create the perfect environment for plants to grow and flourish, we need the right conditions in our soul to bear good fruit for God. And when we have those right conditions we will grow in the fruit of the Spirit, having built our house on the strongest foundation. So rather than complain when the winds and rain come, we can rejoice, knowing we serve the God who can still any storm. The Father that guides us on our journey through life. So bring on the traffic and weather – I will turn my complaints into praise for God, whatever the road conditions.

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Referee Mom - my perspective

It can be difficulty to watch our kids take centre stage, or centre ice. We find ourselves holding our breathe as we hope for the right note, the right line, or the right pass. It’s not that we will be disappointed or less proud if our child makes a mistake, rather we are taking on their self-worth – hoping that their often fragile egos are untouched by embarrassment or shame. I have seen my kids shine in their public appearances, and I have seen them stumble. I watched the crowd cheer and laugh as one son hammed his way through a school play. I heard the congregation gasp in horror as another son dropped the cross the first time he served as crucifer in church.
Hockey life is no exception. We want our kids to do their best and have fun, but our human nature craves that they do well in the eyes of others.  That they don’t mess up. It can be difficult to rise above this desire of the flesh and accept mis-steps and mistakes. The first time I watched my now 11-year-old son Sasha play in net I was a basket case. I was so nervous for him – afraid the shots would be more than he could handle. Afraid of what his teammates would think if they didn’t win. Afraid of what the parents would say if he let in a soft one. I was fiercely protective of his self-worth – I wanted him to know deep in his soul that his best was enough, that I would always be proud of him. Thankfully he is blessed with a healthy self-confidence and a fun-loving spirit. He stays cool under pressure. Last season there was lots of pressure – his team was strong and they won the provincial final in their division. The boys were very determined to come out on top.  But some of the parents were over the top. Some took these games of nine and ten-year olds way too seriously. I tried to bite my tongue and send up prayers for patience and mercy as I listened to adults berate children. I just about bit my tongue clean off when one of the siblings in the crowd lamented to her mother, “Oh no, Sasha is in goal today.” I can’t fault her - she was simply a sponge soaking up her parents’ attitudes and voicing their criticisms. It was a harsh reminder of how we shape and affect the attitudes and beliefs of our kids for better or for worse.
If I thought being a goalie mom was a challenge, I was hardly prepared for the stress of being a referee mom. The first game my oldest son Finn reffed was probably harder for me than it was for him. I knew he was prepared – he completed the officiating clinic and tests, he had played hockey for years, he watched games, read the Hockey News, memorized stats and discussed the game with anyone who would listen. He was fully qualified and ready to go. But I knew how referees were treated – I wanted to put him into a bubble to deflect anything that could potentially hurt him. Even if he made all the best calls, someone would be upset. I’ve watched and cheered enough minor hockey and NHL games to know that even the most trained and eagle-eye officials are taunted, jeered and blamed for bad calls, non-calls, biases and blunders.
My son was reffing six and seven-year-olds, hardly NHLers… maybe the fans would be more forgiving? Sadly not. During that first game I was treated to a rant about the poor officiating from one of the player’s grandmas, a woman I went to church with no less! When I am a hockey mom I am easier to identify – sitting with the rest of the team parents cheering on the kids. As a referee mom I am camouflaged – it’s not like I wear a black and white striped jersey and shout “Great call! Way to go ref!” from the stands. So there is no filter from the complaints and criticism. I get to hear it all. It can be heart-breaking.
As a minor hockey parent I, along with all the other parents, am required to complete an online course, Respect in Sport. It teaches the importance of good sportsmanship as a player, parent and coach. We are told that in no uncertain terms that we are not to rebuke anyone in the game – not the players, not the coaches, not the referees. But all this positive teaching seems to fly out the window in the heat of competition. Apparently kind and caring neighbours and friends turn into armchair officials and seem to forget all the lip service to fun and encouragement. The refs become targets. Even 13-year-olds. Many coaches and parents bully and berate officials for their call of the game. And guess what their kids learn to do? And the cycle continues.
So what are we to do? Well, we are called to live out our faith in thought, word and deed. Love our neighbour as ourselves. Acting with integrity, compassion and honour in the arena isn’t always easy, but it goes a long way to model good behaviour to those around us. The game can get intense, and I have certainly got caught up in the competition before. I’ve said some things I regret. But I try to treat others the way I want to be treated. More importantly the way I want my kids to be treated.
Sometimes I find it hard to justify my love for the game, with all the fighting, the poor sportsmanship and just plain lousy behaviour, on and off the ice. But there are moments – when a teammate skates by Sasha and taps his pads after he lets in a weak goal. When a coach genuinely thanks Finn for reffing a good game.  The big grins after a hard-won game.  The support of respectful, encouraging and passionate parents, coaches, players and fans. We can teach our kids to be positive role-models and honourable people, who play their best, have fun, and know how to forgive. We want our kids to grow up to be kind and compassionate, not critical or cruel. So to you all hockey moms and dads, and grandmas and sisters too, let’s commit to supporting a generation of hockey fans that love each other as much as they love the game. That is when hockey will truly be the best game you can name.
Happy Hockey Day in Canada!