(by Geoff Brown)

The stakes could not have been higher.  Some called it “the big game” or “Super Saturday”.  An undefeated season full of preparation, training, skill development, and intense coaching.  You could feel the electricity in the air, an invisible current that charged the crowd and the players.

That’s right.  2nd grade rec soccer.  CCV Stars. 2004.  The championship game.  

Well, I guess technically it wasn’t the “championship” per se.  They didn’t really have a bracket or play-offs or whatever.  But, it was the final game of the season so…  And, okay, so maybe “undefeated” was a bit of a stretch because the only person keeping score all season was me. But still, the numbers were the numbers even if no one was paying attention when I announced them.

George, my son, was a starter and his performance on this day showed the crowd why.  A chip off the ol’ block!  (And, in the final analysis, that fact was only the start of the problem.  Keep reading.)

In my recollection, the moment could not have been uglier.  It seemed like everyone I knew was on the sideline that day, watching these little guys.  It was easy to watch them all because every player on both teams remained within a five-yard circumference of the ball for the duration of the entire game.  These boys were so good there was apparently no need for things like “positions” or “passing” or “plays”.  I was standing on the sideline next to my pastor.  (My pastor!)  Suddenly, he says, “Huh.  Check out George.”

I turned my attention to the field just in time to see George punch an opponent and slam him to the ground.

In that moment, all of creation stood still.  The sun stopped in the sky.  The birds ceased their chirping.  Then, the fifteen-year-old official blew a whistle that was so loud that, sometimes, if I’m real quiet, I think I still hear its echoes.  He proceeded to pull out a red card that was so huge and so red I think it somehow burned my retinas because I can still see it pretty clearly when I close my eyes.  The other little boy was crying and attempted to stand up.  George, whose face was redder than the aforementioned red card, threw yet another punch for good measure and the kid went down, again.  In that moment, the quiet somehow got quieter.  (Is that a thing?  Can that happen?)  Referees from around the county, dozens of CCV pastors, and members of the armed forces suddenly appeared on the field, grabbed my son by the arm, and escorted him to solitary confinement for the balance of his natural life in the Maricopa County Juvenile Detention Center.  Well, okay, that fifteen-year-old escorted him off the field but that’s what it felt like.

By the time I got this little second grade scoundrel in the car, I had a nine millimeter sermon in the chamber, locked and loaded.  I was going to bludgeon this boy with a Bible!  I was going to scorch him with scripture!  This kid would endure violence from verses!  (You get the idea.)

But, his tears took me out before I could get off the first shot.  “Dad,” he sobbed.  “I didn’t know what to do.  I lost my cool.  I blew it, Dad.  I’m so embarrassed and ashamed.”  Between his sobs and mine, he went on to explain that the other little guy had been taunting him throughout the game.  And, at first, he responded in kind.  But, that only escalated it.  And, this other little boy’s trash-talk had a sharper edge, cut a bit deeper.  So, he lost it.  It was then I realized that my loss was greater, my sin was deeper.

I recognized, very painfully, that I had set my son up for that fall.  All season I had different chances to make the right calls with my son, the opportunities to use the games that children play as opportunities to prime him for manhood.  Instead, I’d squandered those precious moments on working to create a little me.  I wasted so much time counting goals I neglected THE goal.  My son wasn’t created to bring me glory or reflect my image into the world.  Tragically, I knew this but I didn’t know this.

What I knew but never realized until my son taught me that day was that he is God’s workmanship, His handiwork, created uniquely to serve His purposes.  Time spent parenting in any other direction is time not just wasted–it’s time that our children don’t have.  Imago Dei is the theological term used to describe God’s divine design and the precious few years that God gives us with our children need to be stewarded in such a way that His goals and intentions for their lives are kept front and center in all our coaching and in every conversation.  I had wasted so, so much time on Imago Geoff.  And, on this day, George had suffered for it.

It was very soon after this fateful Saturday that, in what I’m sure was a moment of pure coincidence, my pastor (Thank you, Dan Gavaza!) gave me a book that I have reread a thousand times:  “Raising Kids for True Greatness” by Dr. Tim Kimmel.  In this book, I’ve discovered that the true worth of Kimmel’s words are that they serve as a mirror that alternately reflects God’s word and my own heart.

This summer, I’m inviting you to read this book.  In our school offices, we have a free copy for you. And, as is our annual tradition as part of our Crusaders Charge into Summer Reading campaign, we are going to work through the book, beginning May 26th, on the school’s two podcasts.  On Kingdom Culture Conversations, we are going to process what we’re reading chapter-by-chapter with our faculty and staff as well as representatives from Kimmel’s ministry, Gracebased.  Then, on our Off the Page podcast, Chris Gardiner and I are going to break each chapter down in even greater detail, extracting usable applications that we can pull into use before the next whistle blows at next Saturday’s soccer game.

Please consider joining us!  (And, in case you’re worried about him – or think you might have a statutory obligation to call the authorities for reason of my son’s well-being – little George turned out okay, in spite of his Dad.  He’s married to the amazing Cherie and they are expecting my first grandchild – oops, did it again – their first child in September.  And, ironically, he serves as a pastor on the same staff of the same church as the pastor that gave me the book that I’m trying to give you.)

Geoff Brown is the Superintendent of Northwest Christian School located in Phoenix, AZ. Northwest Christian School is one of the largest private Christian schools in the state of Arizona and the only ACSI Exemplary Accredited school in the state.

This post is sponsored by NCS Online. NCS Online is a fully online K-11th grade Christian school providing an online education that is rigorous, affordable, and rooted in Biblical worldview. To learn more about NCS Online, visit NCSonline.org.