How Jesus schooled me at peewee soccer

We recently took our 3-year-old daughter to her inaugural peewee soccer game.

Allow me to set the scene: hundreds of tiny humans wearing giant polyester uniforms scurrying around like ants in an ant farm. Some don’t want to wear their shin guards, many want to be held by their mommy, and none of them know what their team name is or which way to kick the ball. Meanwhile, their attentive parents (that’s me) are hovering with water bottles and sunscreen, just hoping to catch their next Christmas card photo of little Susie kicking the winning goal. (Cue the triumphant sports movie music with my child being carried off the field by her mini teammates a la Rudy).

But when my daughter refused to pose in her team photo -- and by refuse, I mean clung to me like a spider monkey while holding my hair in clenched fists like it was tricycle handles -- I knew we were in for it. She revolted against stretching, drills, and anything having to do with the ball, the field, or pretty much any other tiny human.

I typically pride myself on my monumentally high threshold for frustration, but when she knowingly turned away from my eager iPhone-would-be-photo-session for the 18th time, I was done.

Stick a fork in me. Totally done.

My mind was racing. Does she know all of the things I could be doing with my morning? Does she have any idea how much money I paid for that team picture? Do I really have to look at the other parents whose kids were happily posing, stretching, drilling, and playing? Then, the thoughts went introspective where it gets really icky. Does she know that I never got to play soccer as a kid, and she’s getting a chance to do something I never did?!

The game ended. My daughter got a celebratory popsicle and happily skipped to the car while I wearily followed, wondering why I was so incredibly exhausted. Why had this experience taken so much energy out of me? It wasn’t until later that night, that it hit me: I work so hard to prepare my foundation in Christ for good and bad times, the blissful peaks and the dark valleys, but in the moment of extreme frustration and, to be honest, a lack of self-control, I completely forgot to rely on my faith in God. The thought literally didn’t cross my mind while in the thick of it.

That night, I felt a lot of remorse for my internal soccer mom rage. No one else may have noticed it at the time, but that day left me searching for the source of my failed attempts to keep it together. I read Matthew 11:28-30 where Jesus tells a crowd of people, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

In just three verses, Jesus gives us a plan for when we are stressed, tired, have experienced failure, etc. We don’t have to do this on our own, and we shouldn’t try to go it alone because it obviously doesn’t go so well, does it?

Jesus simply wants us to:

1. Come to him. Jesus wants us to come to him in any way and at any time. In the dark moments where you’re going to regret your thoughts and actions later, go to him first. In peaceful times, go to him and build up your reserve for the times where peace and patience aren’t in sight. This can be a silent prayer in your head or a rambling conversation aloud in your car. Whatever works for you!
2. Partner with him. He wants us to take up his yoke and allow him to carry our burdens that are weighing us down. He doesn’t have any burdens, and he’s offering to help us carry the ones we’re lugging. That doesn’t mean those stress factors will vanish, but it does mean they’ll be easier and lighter on our shoulders.
3. Learn from him. Jesus tells us to slow down, to care about people, to do what’s right. He wants us to get rid of our pride and our arrogance. What problems in the world couldn’t be solved by all of us collectively acting more Christ-like?
4. Find rest for our souls. Jesus wants us to find rest. We weren’t meant to live in a constant hamster wheel of energy, motion, and emotion. What would it look like for your soul to find rest? Doesn’t that sound amazing?

In those frustrating moments at the soccer field, in the 97-degree heat, I didn’t find my identity in Christ. I found my identity in my child, and that can be really dangerous. When my identity is wrapped up in her choices, behavior, likes, and dislikes, that leaves me on a roller coaster I can’t escape. And it doesn’t make me a very good role model for my daughters or anyone else.

I’ve learned my lesson, and I’ve learned it from Jesus, literally. I’m going to him, yoking up, learning from him, and finding rest. Time with our kids and spouses is just too short and too precious to try to do this on our own.