Play for Christ
While my family was living on a tiny island in the middle of the Atlantic (my husband was in the Air Force at the time, and we were stationed there), my two little boys started taking tennis lessons. They were four and five. Very little. But we thought it was a good opportunity.
We wanted them to work on hand-eye-coordination and listening skills and following instructions and waiting for their turn. We were planning to homeschool the following year, and we planned to incorporate a sport and a musical instrument into our curriculum.
Although I am a former college basketball player, I was hesitant to get my kids involved in athletics too young. I attended some soccer and t-ball games for five-year-olds, and it seemed like a lot of effort for little return. So many practices. So many games. Uniforms and cleats. Snack requirements. And then, during the game, it seemed the kids were more interested in picking flowers or playing with their friends on the sidelines than they were about kicking a ball.
Then I heard about tennis lessons. We loved the idea. No games. No parents yelling from the stands. No being out multiple nights a week. Instead, just two one-hour lessons a week. Isaac and Elijah were both in the same group. Five Portuguese kids and my boys. A Portuguese coach who could speak decent English. It sounded perfect.
The boys took to the idea quickly. A month in, and they were (sometimes) hitting the ball. I loved how patient the coach was and how he made things fun. I liked that they were learning a ton but not having to perform for anyone. I also thought taking the lesson in another language was an interesting aspect they wouldn’t ever get in the States.
However, all that aside, I quickly realized that this was the first time I had found myself on the parental side of athletics. I’d been the player. I’d been the coach. But suddenly, I was the parent.
And it was hard.
It is hard.
Fast forward five years. I now have four children. My boys are ten and nine. My girls are seven and five. There are tennis and ballet and piano and gymnastics and karate lessons spread amongst our four little people.
(A fun side note: the activities they have chosen are completely foreign to me. I know what it means to be an athlete but not an athlete in any of these sports. And while I am taking piano lessons with the kids, their knowledge has already surpassed mine.)
Here is what I have learned in five years of activities:
It is hard to keep my mouth shut. It is hard to not want to coach them before they go in. It is hard to not want to fix all their mistakes when the practice is over. Because of my past experience with athletics, I knew what I am supposed to do. I am supposed to let the coach coach. I am simply supposed to enjoy the experience.
Rewind back to that island five years earlier. Just a few lessons in, and I was finding myself giving my boys a list of things to work on when they went in. And after the lesson was over, I found myself going over all the things they did wrong.
I quickly realized I had to nip this problem in the bud. If I didn’t, I’d turn into one of those crazy parents I had watched in action so many times.
While in the midst of this internal debate with myself, I stumbled upon this article: “The Only Six Words Parents Need to Say to Their Kids About Sports (or Any Performance!)” by Brad Griffin.
Here is what Griffin wrote:
Before the competition the only things you should say to your child are:
- Have fun.
- Play hard.
- I love you.
After the competition the only things you should say to your child are:
- Did you have fun?
- I’m proud of you.
- I love you.
He went on to discuss a study of college athletes. When researchers asked them what their parents said that made them feel great and brought joy, the athletes had six words they most wanted to hear:
“I love to watch you play.”
It’s been five years since my boys first picked up a racket, and I have purposefully stuck to this plan. I have decided that these are the only things I am going to say to my kids in regard to any activity that they participate in. I may encourage them to “listen” or “be polite” or other character-related-actions, but otherwise, my husband and I make ourselves stick to Griffin’s list.
What I realized was that in order to stick to this goal, I needed to remember why I had my four children participating in these activities. Yes, I wanted to teach them how to be active and not live a sedentary life. Yes, I wanted to introduce to things that might bring them joy. Yes, I wanted them to meet new people and follow rules and learn how their body worked.
But more than any of that, I am nurturing souls. Proverbs 1:8-10 (NIV) says: “Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction and do not forsake your mother’s teaching. They are a garland to grace your head and a chain to adorn your neck. My son, if sinful men entice you, do not give in to them.”
So I’d like to stretch those six words even farther. I’d like to turn them into eight words.
Remember as you drive your child and watch your child and encourage your child and love your child, they only need to hear eight little words from you:
“I love to watch you play for Christ.”
is a former city girl now living on a farm in the middle of nowhere, Tennessee with her husband and four young children. She is passionate about the causes of infertility, adoption, and keeping it real as a mom. You can follow her at flakymn.blogspot.com or becauseofisaac.org.
Photograph © John Fornander, used with permission
