tonight was the spotswood basketball game. for all y'all out of state or distance blog readers (lol), i am a younglife leader at a local high school in harrisonburg, VA called Spotswood. home of the blazers. sometimes we joke and call it spotsweed or potswood blazers. marijuana's a big deal here.
but tonight was a regional game to go to states... and we lost by one point.
i told my younglife teammate i am so thankful we lost (even though in the midst i was going crazy, making any excuse to act like i am a big deal, because MY girls' bball team could go to states). but i am thankful because we all got a glimpse of brokenness. a taste of dissatisfaction. and with 3.6 seconds back on the clock, i made sure i took pictures to remember this night.
i was definitely caught up in the excitement of it all until we lost and i realized how we are caught up in idols, achievements, false worth.
but i also realized how it is okay to be caught up in the moment. i love that my head was dizzy and my legs were shaking because i couldn't stand the anticipation and nothing else mattered. being in a sea of highschoolers, praying over every individual in the gym, and feeling too many emotions for a couple minutes. i am lucky to have felt that.
UGH, the tension. so rebecca: are you saying you are grateful for tonight because you felt lots of emotions and felt like the luckiest girl in the world, or are you burdened by the weight of this world and the brokenness in which we put our hope and worth in?
after the game, i dropped off three girls. giggling, talking about their school crushes (four wheelies--they "like" someone based off of how much they text! times are a'changin).
i drove back to my teammates house (because i borrow his car, thanks bud). and he knew i was moved with emotion. we walked to the back of his house, found two chairs in the dark, sat and looked at each other. surrounded by beer bottles, a muddy landscape, and barely any light to see each other, we were moved to pray. we prayed deep prayers of plea, gratitude, wonder, majesty. i could not hold back my tears and i let 'em rip (ew, really?). but i could not stop crying because i repeated truth that i have problems believing, yet i could not stop clinging and gripping onto hope. our prayers were dark, deep, sincere and i am lucky. will you bring me back to the backyard in deep peace and prayer because i need you?