Cyclone has started attending a soccer skills camp every Friday evening. This past Friday the coaches called it quits within the first few minutes due to “bad” weather.
I stood up from my sheltered perch and silently cursed the rain, “How dare you ruin my son’s lesson, how dare you interrupt his joy. How dare you be bad!”
And I watched as ALL the other kids ran to their parents, huddled under umbrellas, and scurried off to their cars. . . all the kids except my boy.
He stayed on the field, completely alone, in nothing but shorts and a tank-top.
He continued to kick around his ball, begging me to let him stay “just a few more minutes!!”
It made me smile, he is so tough… all wild, all boy.
But it was raining, and we were all alone. So I began to work up the energy it was going to take to drag my now soaking-wet boy back to our car, saying things like: “Just a few more minutes” and “Aren’t you getting cold yet?” And seconds before I made my, “Alright, lets go” declaration I heard my Little-Love squeal.
A sound I knew could only mean one thing—
Her dad had arrived.
Oh, I was stuck now.
Just like his son, my husband stayed out on that field, in the rain, kicking a ball while still wearing his cowboy boots from work.
Like father, like son.
Little-Love started playing too, now that her daddy had showed up. And I spent the first few minutes of their game just watching from the safety of my umbrella.
Eventually, I couldn’t stand it anymore. So, I left my dry spot to join in the chase of this green ball, and soaking wet 6 year old boy, and an equally soaked supposedly “grown-man”.
The rain hadn’t stolen our joy after all, it enhanced it.
It wasn’t “bad”…it was very, very good.
I’ve said before how honored I am to be this guy’s wife.
But I sure felt the penetrating beauty of my life during that impromptu family soccer game.
As the rain soaked through our clothes and the cold crept into our bones, so did the joy and sweetness soak into my soul.
How lucky to have these brave kids, and that fun-loving husband to remind me of the wonderful feeling of wet shoes, and rain soaked hair.
Of well-earned warm dinners, and giggle-filled tickle-fests.
I love this crew.
I love this life. . .
I love the rain.