All the family gathered around the flatscreen TV, each person claiming his or her spot on the sectional. The air felt thick, it was hard to take in a deep breath as the Bowl game began. The culmination of the season and a seat in the National Championship game were riding on the outcome.
I needed a little more room to breathe, so I moved the love-seat behind the sectional and curled up in my back-row spot. My husband did his duty and sat down beside me but he didn’t snuggle-in, instead he inched over to the other side.
The pressure ran high.
Our team led most of the game with a significant lead. And yet, all of us kept saying, “Once we get one more touchdown, we can relax.” We got one more touchdown and then another. But we didn’t let our guard down until the final minutes of the game. With the win in sight we could breathe a little easier.
Emotionally drained, I laid in my bed ready for sleep to come, but my mind was spinning and sleep had trouble catching me.
Tonight is the National Championship game. My husband and oldest son left yesterday to drive down to Tampa. They’ll get to be there, in-person, to cheer our Tigers on for the rematch of a lifetime.
Before they left, my husband verbalized his excitement and determination to enjoy the game no matter what.
He realized his inability to enjoy the previous game because of the pressure, and he wasn’t going to let that happen again.
Here’s the reality – when the stakes are high, pressure threatens to steal our enjoyment.
As I personalized this thought, it cut a little deeper.
As a stay-at-home parent who is homeschooling her children. I’m all-in. Daily, I live in a pressure-cooker. The stakes are high. Their education, their character, their habits, their hearts all rests in my hands. My daily decisions are impacting their forever future.
The weight of it all is crushing.
The pressure threatens to steal my enjoyment of parenting, teaching and most importantly of each of them.
My tone is my-tell. On the days the pressure-cooker is steaming, my nerves are simultaneously frying.
Do I want to wait until my final years of parenting to fully enjoy my children?
Of course not.
I want to enjoy the game while it’s being played.
I want to enjoy life while it’s being lived.
Today is a gift. My children are a gift. And gifts are meant to be enjoyed.
The shift happens when we change our approach. Changing our mindset going into the game.
When we wake up, our day starts, our mindset matters and our prayers make a difference.
What if we simply changed our prayer from ::
“God, help me through the day.”
“God, help me enjoy today.”
This shift will help us see the truth. That our children’s future rests in God’s hands, not ours. But we get to enjoy them while we have them.