All of these answers are true. But I what I want to say is, "I've never been more aware of my selfishness until this tiny child came into my life."
And I wouldn't change it for all of the riches in the world. I'd just like to get over myself, you know?
I'd like to think I have myself in a perfect storm. My coaching season this year has been so frustrating, so discouraging, and so exhausting. My team is awesome! I love those 14 girls, and I'd hang out with them more if I could. It's the tension and chaos surrounding our season that has done me in. The politics of the school, the lack of effort by the parents, the incredible burden of planning this trip to Florida, it's kind of sucked the fun out of coaching.
I lay in bed awake thinking about the routine, the finances, the conflicts with the school. My heart hurts for the ways my immediate authority figure has disrespected my team and me. For the ways my reputation as a coach has changed this year. I don't get it. It feels so foreign, if I'm honest. And I don't like it. But in all of my efforts to be respectful and low maintenance, I've started to wonder if maybe my Athletic Director is right. The circles I run in my own head- exhausting!
In a word, I've felt so insignificant lately.
When Adam talks about how much his boss likes him and affirms his work. Or he takes him to lunch to talk strategy because Adam is "the future of this company." I think to myself, "I wonder what that feels like."
There are days I walk into practice, praying that I can be what those girls need. Because I feel so defeated. I'm a typically feisty person when it comes to fighting for those girls, and I'm losing steam.
The problem with feeling insignificant is it's a lie. When I buy into the lie, I start walking more in the fear of man instead of the authority of Christ. And I can't be the coach those girls need and deserve. And I can't be a happy, constantly serving wife and mom because I've suddenly started operating out of the strength of Marissa instead of the power of Christ and the overflow of Jesus in me.
When one (Marissa) starts to feel insignificant, it only heightens the selfishness. Because everything becomes about me.
And it's plain not. about. me. In a way, I am insignificant because this story is about Jesus. I'm not the star of this story. But when I put myself as the star, I find I'm completely incapable of filling the role. And if I could just live in that reality, I think my days would be better.
Earlier this week, I was playing all of the songs that were in our wedding while I was cooking dinner. When I played, "Be My Everything," something resonated in my heart. A check. A reminder. Christ in me. Christ in me, the hope of Glory. Be my everything.
In my cooking. In my cleaning. In my coaching. In my laundry. In my folding. In my marriage. In my mothering. Be my everything. In my hard days. In my easy days. In my everything.
Be my everything.
Sorry, I can't not put a picture of Nolan in a post. He's too cute!
