Tip of My Iceberg

Soccer has become a way we connect as a family.

Not all of us are able to play at the level and speed of some. Sydney is recuperating from a torn ACL; Jillian has had knee surgery as well and has been warned that running too much could lead to early knee replacement.

John and me? We’re just getting old.

The gang played with the sides split between the bigs and littles. When the bigs wanted to get serious, Jillian took the littles and coached them to play together. I walked around with baby Thea, calming her down with my learned bouncing technique. John took pictures as Sydney stretched her knee and tried to get comfortable.

It was a spectacular evening. Everyone was laughing at some point in time. There were a few tears for missed goals–not by anyone older than six. But the camaraderie was sweet, a true collaboration of talent and enthusiasm, compassion and competition.

I watched as those more experienced allowed younger players to score. The adults doing so was an expectation; they love the kids and want them to feel a sense of accomplishment.

The younger kids allowing the true littles to score was a tender surprise. I watched ten-year-old Huck help his three-year-old brother Scout’s ball go through his legs to score. I watched eight-year-old Sloane help her six-year-old cousin Cal line up for a shot that guaranteed him a goal.

What’s amazing is our family is incredibly competitive. The desire to win is always preeminent. But individuals were sacrificing increased scores for the encouragement of those who wouldn’t have scored on their own.

In a world primed to win, to allow an opponent to get the “upper hand” isn’t a norm that is widely practiced. It’s human nature to want to get ahead, even if it’s at the expense of someone else. It’s why “Cinderella teams” and “underdogs” who make surprising triumphs in sports are lauded and applauded. There’s something in us that yearns to help others succeed.

We love winners. No matter what sports event you speak of, the winners are heralded as the best of the best. Enzo Ferrari, the Italian driver and and entrepreneur made the comment, “Second place is the first loser”, which was then popularized by Dale Earnhardt, the famous American stock car racer.

Choosing to lose isn’t a value.

The religious leaders of Jesus’ day had a very specific view of winning. They felt that following the commands of Moses perfectly was the only way to live their best lives. They’d filled the law with minutia, however, so every little bit of it was merely one more way for someone to fail. So when one of them asked Jesus what the most important commandment was, there was an expectation of living to win the religious lottery.

Jesus surprised them.

“Jesus replied, ‘You must love the LORD your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. A second is EQUALLY important:’Love your neighbor as yourself.’” Matthew 22:37-38

Loving God first and foremost made sense. But loving others as you love yourself? That meant wanting more for others than just looking after our own needs and desires. Understanding ourselves well enough to know what we need and then offering that to everyone else. Selfless giving. Unconditional grace and mercy.

Letting others win.

There’s a selflessness in letting others win or be better than us. It can give affirmation to those who question their value, encouragement to those who hesitate to share their true selves, and support to those who have felt abandoned or rejected.

Being a spectator of those giving others a chance to succeed made me realize how desperate we all are to be good at something.

There’s an even greater need to choose to elevate others above ourselves.

The challenge is to redefine winning.