The season is over and all I wanted to do is cry. I hate the thought of not coaching, pushing, and feebly attempting to teach thirteen 7th graders the game of basketball. To say I "like" those kids is a gross understatement. I "love" being around them. Once the initial shock from losing our first round game wore off, I started thinking about the progress the team made both individually and as a group. Even though they progressed by leaps and bounds in the areas of mental toughness, basketball IQ, and skillfulness, I am most proud of the steps they took toward being men. In a culture that seems to scoff at character, I made it a goal of mine to teach my team integrity. If we lost every game this year yet accomplished this goal, I would have been satisfied.
The Lord does all things for the good of those who love him. He heaped so much good upon me by this experience. While his exact purpose is still somewhat of a mystery I know he has sanctified my life during this season.
Oh, and I love my wife. Not like I should, but Christ will give me grace to love her as I ought. She put up with all the practices and games. She's wonderful! The Lord has been abundantly gracious to me!