I wept as I watched a movie about a basketball game on T.V. It wasn’t the game that had me in tears, it was the cheerleaders.
The movie was an old one and the girls were dressed far more conservatively than they are nowadays. It reminded me of a 15 year old in a short white skirt and green sweater, yelling “Mission, Mission, rah, rah, rah” as I led the cheer with my friend Chris. We tumbled and jumped and played our role in the victory for the team.
So many years ago! In my mind’s eye I could see us, so young, so full of life and so innocent of what life would ask of us.
I could almost see God looking down on us and our childhood attempts…we were very serious about doing things right…practicing for hours. I’m sure He saw us with the same kind of compassion and love that we felt when we saw our children singing in the school choir, or taking part in the school track meet.
I wonder if His heart was touched the same way mine was when I watched my little girls trying so hard to do their very best for their Mom.
But my enthusiasm for a basket-ball game has long been replaced by my enthusiasm for the game of life. But back then, there was much to be learned from basket-ball. Winning and losing haunts the game of life too and even the weekly chore of pressing that white skirt with two dozen pleats taught me to be careful …too hot an iron and there could be disaster. Keeping our saddle shoes shiny white was important too. It was sort of military training for the battle ahead.
Chris and I have grown old together…still in touch a couple of times a year, but both of us with the school days memories that have become dearer as time goes by.
God was there then and I know He is still with me but now our roles are a somewhat reversed. Now He is the cheer leader giving me encouragement every day for this wonderful game of life He has provided.
