A Closed Door

A year ago my son ripped his school t-shirt because he was devastated when he didn’t make the basketball team. He’s played since he was 5 and for years dreamed of playing basketball for his high school. How could this door get slammed in his face? It was a tough day for him and I remember laying in bed consoling him then I felt a shift…a jerk to my spirit.

With tears in both of our eyes, I reminded him whose son he was and that it was just a chapter in his story. A test to see how he…how we would respond. I coached him all of his life so I knew he understood the game. He understood fundamentals and his basketball IQ is off the charts. He had the foundation so it was a critical moment for him. What would he do?

I told him that he would thank the coaches one day for his no. I told him to shake their hand, thank them for the opportunity then ask for specific feedback. I also asked for feedback from the coaches. I had to explain to my son that though we didn’t want the no, the coaches feedback aligned with what I had told him time and time again. He needed to condition so he could endure the entire game. They told him he was talented but that wasn’t enough. True.

I looked him right in the face and told him to put the work in and make the team next year. I washed the ripped shirt and placed in my closet trusting and believing he would make the team. Last night, he suited up, 15 lbs lighter, taller and much faster. He made the team Tuesday, was on the court Friday and they won! God restored everything he thought he lost. Not only did he put the work in last year, he had a team of guys he befriended last year. Friends who were already on the team yet met him at the park faithfully to help him work out. The guys cheered him on through the tough times and were there when he hit the court.

I wore the very shirt he ripped last year, with the hole still in it, to remind him just how far he had come in just 1 year. When he made his first points of the game, he looked at me smiled. With tears in my eyes, I felt a breeze under my arm where the rip is and I thanked God for the closed door that He allowed to open. A closed door doesn’t mean it will always be closed. It may just mean we’re not quite ready to walk through yet. We give God the glory!

May God’s peace and grace be with you as we keep pressing forward.

Sincerely,

One Proud Mama #33

3 thoughts on “A Closed Door

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