Desires of the Heart

I played soccer 2-3 seasons every year for 7 years. Every year - every season - I was tempted not to play. I wasn’t that skilled, and playing a running game with asthma can be rather humiliating regardless of technique level. I attended camps, went on extra runs, and spent hours in my front yard trying to improve my skills. Despite my efforts, I never saw myself as good enough—and a lack in confidence surely does not contribute towards improvement.

The decision to continue playing only became more difficult. Entering junior high, there were no longer rec opportunities, my school did not have a soccer team, and none of my friends played. It seemed silly, with my skill level, to go out of my way to try out for teams at schools I did not attend. I feared being cut, and if not, that I would forever be a disappointment to my teammates and coaches.

With the encouragement of my Social Studies student teacher, I played for one of the middle schools in town. I received an award both years I played on the team, and I even served as a captain the second year. It would seem that these objective experiences would have increased my confidence, but I made excuses for them. My fears only increased, and the thought of trying out for the high school was terrifying. It seemed the easy decision was to not try. I could spare myself embarrassment. I could leave the sport on a good note. It was not that easy, though. I loved soccer. I wanted to play. The risk of humiliating myself and feeling outcast was worth it. I could not just give up after five years of persevering. 

Though I decided to try out, I did have a backup plan in place. Track season started two or three weeks before soccer, so I joined the long-distance team for my high school. I practiced with them until soccer tryouts, and thankfully did not need to return to it as a fallback. (I cannot remember if I had given the track coach a heads up, but I sure hope so!) I again received an award my freshman year, and towards the end of season my sophomore year, though I still thought I sucked, I knew I would be returning—I even invested in some much-needed new cleats! 

A month later, I got in the car accident. I broke my spine and pelvis. I was told I might never walk again, and my initial stubborn attempts only seemed to confirm this. My drive to recover was always for soccer. All of my emotions were locked up at that time, but when I did cry, it was in acknowledgment of the fear I might not play again. It seemed to be the only thing that could get through to my hardened heart. Aside from cheer and dance practices, I used my study hour to meet with my school’s physical trainer, and I started going to physical therapy appointments. I shared that my goal was to get strong enough for soccer, but my physical therapist explained that we first needed to get me to a place where I could sit comfortably in a chair. Lying on my back and breathing was not my idea of exercise, nor was it encouraging for my time restrictions of making the team. Junior year passed by, but I held onto hope for the spring of my senior year. Though I had made a lot of progress, it did not work out that year either. 

I no longer had a goal, and it was devastating. I showed up to college empty and defeated. I no longer saw a reason to push through my pain. We had a great Wellness Center on campus, but I was too ashamed to go to it. It was a dark time. Thankfully, I was led to encounter the truth, love, and mercy of Jesus, and I started to learn what it meant to surrender. I remember standing in my apartment my junior year of college, crying, finally surrendering soccer to the Lord. It had been over four years, and I wanted to play so badly, but I accepted that it was not necessary. I let go. 

Very soon after that, to make a long story short, I was welcomed onto an intramural soccer team. I know that it was physically painful, but I do not recall the pain. I remember the awe of the capabilities of my body despite the circumstances, as well as the power I felt when blocking someone trying to score a goal. Mostly, though, I remember finally being vulnerable about my limitations. Before any of our games started, I was handing out freeze pops in a hallway on campus with Sam. I did not know Sam very well at the time, but he was our team captain, and I opened up to him about how afraid I was. He was so kind and so welcoming. His support encouraged me to persevere. He became a great friend, someone who continued to help me grow in vulnerability and living a full life.  

That was seven years ago. My back was miraculously healed a little over a year later. Once the pain was gone, of course playing soccer was again on my mind! Six years of physical limitations and setbacks was rather traumatic for me, though. My hope had dwindled through the countless disappointments—and in finding myself in an unrecognizable body. When my back was suddenly better, my expectations were raised, and there was a lot of fear in attempting to meet them. I had no idea how much I could handle. I did not know how much my other injuries (pelvis and shin) might still hold me back. It was discouraging to experience how out-of-shape and out-of-practice I was. Even in the epic reality of my miraculous abilities, I was embarrassed. 

I was embarrassed for my lack of skill, but I also feared improvement. Pre-crash, I was obsessive. All of my worth was placed in my abilities. I did not want to idolize physical activity again, and I did not know if I had the strength to avoid it. After a year or so, I joined an indoor league in Michigan, but my availability only allowed me to play a couple games. It was a taste of joy that was shut down. 

Fast forward several years and several moves. I am now in Bismarck, and I was invited to play in an indoor league here! Again, I was terrified! Neither my skill level nor general fitness level are bragging points. I started writing this reflection before any of our games started, and I was bawling with gratitude for what soccer has served in my life—it definitely helped me enter into this season with a good mindset. It has been such a gift to play again, and I am still learning so much through my experience. This round involved a good lesson in the importance of rest and of not placing my identity and worth in my capabilities.  

There is so much more I want to say. A lot has happened in 19 years. This is enough to make my point, though. God moves through the desires on our hearts. Even before I was intentionally praying about growing in virtue, the desires on my heart led me to learn courage and perseverance. When I began seeking a virtuous life, it was again these desires that pushed me deeper in vulnerability. These lessons have shaped my life in ways that I cannot measure nor express.  

Of course, without God, it was not enough. I failed to reach my goal over and over again. I despaired. My goal is different now. It is not soccer, but to be in union with God. I initially thought this meant soccer was forever out of the picture, but it was only when I gave it up that it actually became possible for me. I am thankful for His wisdom in His timing. It seems to be a pattern in my life that I reach really low points before I really consider choosing Him. It is humbling to realize this, but I am just grateful He allows me to choose Him at all! 

What desires are leading you? Will you surrender them to God?