Life is a Bad Ref

With my girls playing club soccer in three different regions of the country, I can say I’ve just about seen it all when it comes to refereeing. The good. The bad. And the ugly. I’ve also become a keen observer of parent reactions, and I’m beginning to see how they don’t vary much from state to state.

I don’t know whether it’s because my girls are growing older and this isn’t my first rodeo with club sports, but in recent years I’m grasping the value of letting each team simply play their game—without parental interference. And that includes shouting insults at the ref.

Why?

Because the way I see it, life is a bad ref. Bad refs (with the exception of those who refuse to intervene when things get dangerous) can teach our kids. So what if a ref misses a hand ball or calls a corner kick a goal kick? You’d be surprised how my parents get up in arms about such calls.

I’ve leapt up from my chair before, furious at some of the calls (or lack of calls) I’ve witnessed. The best is when parents (or a coach) tick a ref off so badly that every calls he makes from that point on is skewed because of the verbal lashing he had to publicly endure.

My thinking when the ref makes a misjudgment . . . such is life. Play on. Play through it.

Play through.

I used to cringe every time my mom would tell me life was unfair, but as an adult I get that she was doing me a favor by telling me this. I didn’t grow up expecting special treatment or that I’d always be understood in every situation. Plenty of situations occur when there isn’t an opportunity to plead your case. Life makes all kinds of unfair calls. Death, disease, and ignorant cruelty to name a few.

We can’t always bark back at life. It doesn’t work like that. I’ve never seen a ref change his mind after a good yelling at. So much of living a peaceful, fulfilled life is understanding—really understanding—how to navigate through the things we cannot control. How to play through it. How to play our game despite what’s playing out all around us. Developing that kind of personal accountability is invaluable. We don’t go through life blaming others for our successes and failures. We take responsibility.

Sure, some games are called horribly. Been there. Seen that. I finally figured out that’s what gets some parents so enraged when they observe a bad call. They’re having to sit back while Life smacks their kid around. I say give the kid a chance to rise up. Watch as they show you how well they can play through it. Teach them to play their game no matter how the game might be called.

I went to rehab for the first time when I was in sixth grade. It was family day and my parents drove me and my two other sisters to support my sister who was trying to get sober. I’ll never forget a lot of things from that tumultuous time period in my life, but one of the greatest takeaways came in the form of a simplistic prayer. Maybe you’ve heard of it. The opening lines of the Serenity Prayer have guided me through more occasions than I could possibly count.

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.”

Play through.

I 8 Monday—What to Say When There Are No Words

Last week I read online about a family tragedy someone I know has been dealing with, a hardship that would make anyone who’s ever stressed over a dinner menu embarrassed beyond belief. My

heart leapt toward this woman and what she’s been going through. I began to imagine what she might possibly be feeling, with no real success. Only a strong attempt to understand. I spent time reading the reactions to her beautifully written, vulnerably raw post. Mostly, I felt incredibly thankful for the lack of judgment I encountered in the comments.

Which sadly, led me to several times of struggle in my own life where people shot off some incredibly stupid things. Specific incidences come to mind. In the aftermath of my miscarriages. When my family received news my sister’s tumor was malignant. But one of the worst “warnings” came when I visited a drug rehab as a sixth grader, in effort to help my older sister on her road toward recovery. One of the counselors looked right at me and said I’d end up just like my sister. (P.S. Hey Clueless Counselor from the late 80s, I am like my sister in creative and risk-taking ways. I did not turn out just like her in the heartbreaking addictions she’s suffered. Thanks for the vote of confidence. Did wonders for my sixth grade psyche.)

All this to say, I’ve come to learn there are ways to handle situations where few or no words suffice better than impulsive ramblings. Words will never cure a tragedy. But timely, discerning words, spoken with wisdom, can provide unexpected encouragement and a balm to the soul.

What To Say When There Are No Words

1. Love. Express your love for the person. So much is communicated in that one word. Often, you don’t need to bookend that word with anything. It’s strong on its own.
2. “I’m sorry you’re going through this.” Saying this evokes empathy and indicates that you care. It’s simple, but it can speak volumes.
3. “How can I be there for you?” People feel loved during times of hardship in different ways. A meal might be perfect for one person and repulsive to another. Some people need time to cry by themselves, while others need to know they can wipe their snotty nose on your sleeve and you won’t judge them.
4. Don’t feed them an answer for the unexplainable why. This one is more what not to say. Bite your tongue before you spill off a list of reasons why this tragedy might be happening. I got my share of these after the miscarriages. Not a single one comforted, encouraged, or made me feel at peace with my situation. Mostly, when people spouted off their guesses as to why I lost my babies I felt like they had some insider information I didn’t. I’ve grown more comfortable with leaving questions unanswered, at letting that be part of my journey.
5. Validate the hurt. There are unique ways to do this. Avoid saying things like “I know exactly how you feel...” Instead, focus on them and how the circumstances might be impacting their life.
6. “You are not alone.” Again, not the time to share a long story about how your Aunt Betty also got cancer and is now in complete remission. But…I do think there’s value in letting someone know they’re not alone. Certain situations can feel extremely lonely. This reminder, at a thoughtful time, can provide wonderful comfort.
7. Something. There’s the temptation to keep quiet, to not say anything out of fear you’ll say the wrong thing. I get it. I’ve said plenty of screwball things in my life, meaning well. But avoidance communicates the message that this great sad thing they’re going through isn’t important to you—that you have too much going on in your own life to bother to reach out.
8. Nothing. Wait, what? I know, I know. I just suggested to say something. But there’s a difference between saying any old thing and saying something well-timed and thought out. Just as there are seasons for everything, I truly believe there are times to just close your mouth and reach out your arms for a hug. Or times to pass on a letter. Or, as one child did so memorably for me following a long season of darkness, to extend out a handful of yellow daffodils. 

Hmm. I was only planning on whipping up a quick little post. Guess I had a lot to say on the subject. ;-)

*A huge shout-out thanks to Carrie, for you know what.