Back in 1994 we had finished a long
ministry at a church in Warren, Ohio. At the request of our denomination at the
time, I had gone to a church in crisis to deal with a nasty little issue. It
was something that was very difficult, something that, even though I had been
trained for, I would have been happy to have avoided forever. But, we jumped in
with both feet. Very stressful.
One night Marsha showed me an ad in a local paper saying they
wanted someone to report on high school football games that fall. I had no
hobbies and no way to blow off steam from the pressures of pastoring that
wayward little church. Wouldn’t it be fun to do something a little different
for a while? It would only involve ten Friday nights. It also only paid $20 a
game but they covered gas and you got into the games free and got to sit in the
press box. I thought for a bit and then thought, sure, why not? And soon I had
a genuine press pass and a pencil and I was a sports reporter. One thing led to
another I ended up doing all high school sports in that town for an entire
year, which wasn’t real fun. But I learned some things, one of which was that
girls’ sports were not the same as they had been when I had been in school.
Girls no longer slapped at volleyballs or squealed and tried to get away from
errant basketballs. The first girl’s sport I covered was a volleyball game.
Several times girls would slam into the floor diving for balls. One girl
crashed into the stands going after a ball. They were fearless to stand in
front of a spike. I was completely mesmerized. Girls, 20 years after high
school for me, were every bit as tough as the guys. Actually, I think that if I
was in high school now I might be a little scared to date.
There were two girls on the same
volleyball and basketball teams who went over six feet. They dominated. They
were great. They were unstoppable. In every game I covered I was completely
impressed. Rebounds, elbows flying, bodies knocking others out of the way. It
was hard to think of these girls as kids who had normal issues and concerns.
They were scoring machines.
One evening I went by the school to
talk to the coach. I was walking into the gym after practice and a lot of the
players were leaving. I smiled and nodded at them but then one of the two
really fine players stopped me. Everything about girls’ sports made me feel out
of place and now standing there looking up at a 6’2” girl just seemed
surreal. But she wasn’t stalking the basketball court now, looking for someone
to devour. Now she was a pretty blond girl who just happened to be 6’2”. Like
most blonds when they are a little embarrassed, this girl was blushing a deep
crimson red. Oddly, that made me feel better. She kind of stammered a little,
but she wanted to thank me for writing a favorable article about her. I told
her that I had only reported the facts, nothing more. But then I remembered
that this was just a kid, a senior in high school who would be going out to
meet the world soon. “Grace, I want to tell you something. There are college
recruiters in the stands at every game. Don’t be bowled over. You have a great
talent, but you are a greater person. Go to school on that scholarship, get
what you can get but keep your mind focused. You are Grace Bennett, be the best
Grace Bennett you can be.” She smiled a little and said she would be the best
she could be and off she walked.
Grace got her scholarship and then
Grace got pregnant. By that time, I had quit doing sports because I had been
called to another church farther away. I heard what had happened and I felt bad
for Grace. I was a little disappointed, but she soon slipped from my mind. I knew
she never went to college. One mistake, one bad choice…….
Ten years later Marsha and I were in
that small town where I had written for the paper. We were sitting at a table
in a small eatery. A tall blond woman walked in with a tall blond boy of about
ten. She handed him a few quarters and he ran off to join his friends in the
arcade and she went to get their meals. It took me a second to realize I wasn’t
just seeing a Mom, I was seeing Grace and her child. She got their food then
called to him and he left his buddies and came over to eat. They prayed before
they ate. They chatted and laughed over their meal, enjoying the food and each
other. It was a sweet scene. When she saw me, she smiled a little and turned
red. As they were leaving they passed our table. I said, “Hi Grace.” She turned
a little redder and said, “HI, Mr. Wade.”
The thing that pleased me was that she hadn’t let that one mistake beat
her at life. It changed the course of her life, yes, but she had risen above
it. She was neat and clean and her son was neat and clean. They got into a
nearly new SUV in the parking lot. Not only did she and her son have a good
relationship, but his friends seemed to like her, as well. She could have had a
very different life, but she wound up embracing the life she had. She became
the best Grace Bennett she could be.
Because they had prayed over their meal, I knew that the Lord was
involved in their lives. So long as the Lord is there, Life doesn’t have to
beat us down.
Blessings to you all.
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