Pigskin. Pleasure.

I’m not gonna lie. Life is crazy hard these days. Hard but beautiful. Sometimes I find my joy under any mossy rock, but there are days when the joy smacks me right across the face. Sunday was one of those days. Six of my kids sat with me, watching the seventh on his new journey.

Will, my 7th grader, decided after years of soccer playing that he wanted to try football. It’s been a new journey for him. Living with the constant ache of sore shoulders, sore ankles, sore knees . . . yet, when I ask if it’s worth it, he just gets this huge smile on his face.

I get it.

Boy, do I get it. It’s the fatigue and the soreness that reminds us we’re alive, warriors building a strong house. It’s relying on the physical strength when the emotional strength waxes and wanes. But mostly it’s the team and coaches around you that have your back. All of it. JOY.

My guy Will is finding his joy on the football field this year, and boy does that ever bring a big real smile to my face.

Best thing about it? He doesn’t mind that I cheer. Loud.

Catharsis.

 

 

 

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