God is Moving in Youth Sports

 Youth and high school sports have been a constant in our home for two decades.  Tanya and I have coached soccer, flag football, baseball, basketball - and we have cheered on all of those plus track, cross country and tennis (and now rugby).  We have started programs, supported programs, and mainly supported our boys in all of it.  If it has a ball or a finish line - we have been there.

Last night we watched our Arrows, especially our favorite Arrow Greyson battle Dover on the football field at Crater Stadium for nearly 2 hours.  It was a contest that ultimately ended in defeat for Ashland, but the boys never gave up and never gave in to the mental and physical exhaustion that, as a parent you feel right along with your athlete as they struggle and strain.

After the last knee was taken and our team had gathered with coaches and parents on the field something really special happened.  It’s been on my mind in a powerful way since, and is why I wanted to share these rambling thoughts.

Dover’s entire team, after cheering and celebrating a hard fought victory with their band and student section, came over to the opposite end zone where we were gathered, sore, defeat still fresh, and they called out to our boys to kneel and pray with them - all of them.  Some of our guys took a moment to figure out what was happening, but once they all knew, they ALL knelt down together and prayed.  Not as two opposing teams who had just pummeled each other for 4 quarters - but as a group of young men.  Tired, half reeling with the rush of victory, half bent by the disappointment of defeat, but wholeheartedly together in that moment.

Dover had just experienced very emotional week, losing a freshman student and athlete to suicide - and perhaps that stirred the Spirit in them more than usual and made this act one that felt necessary - maybe it’s something that they have done before, I can’t say - and frankly to me it doesn’t matter what the catalyst was.  This was something that moved me, as I am sure it did others in a way that has stuck with me.

God is moving in this generation - I see it in my son as he leads his teammates in pregame prayer and kneels to connect with God before games, and I saw it in a powerful way last night. God is present and real and moving in these young men and women in a way that we as older adults need to pay attention to and learn from.

All these years of investing time and energy into these kids and hoping that they learned something from my heart, and not just my whistle - I felt and learned more last night than I could ever hoped to have taught.

Thank you Dover - and thank you for all who are supporting youth sports and Christian youth activities in our communities.  It is having an impact far beyond just the kids.

Remembering Timpa

 

Timothy Ray Ridge, my father-in-law, and my very dear friend, died unexpectedly of a heart attack in the early hours of the morning on Sunday, December 20th; after visiting his mother Carol through a window at her assisted living home with his wife Barbara, sister Dawn and her grandchildren, his daughter and son-in-law, and three of his seven loving and energetic grandchildren.  He passed after seeing his beloved Ohio State Buckeyes clinch the Big10 Championship after fewer games played than in any other season in history.  But knowing Tim, he had watched every minute there was to watch this year. He was certainly a fan of the Buckeyes, but an even bigger fan of his family.  He watched hours upon hours of his grandchildren’s soccer games, football games, swim meets, baseball games, track meets, cross country meets, choir concerts, band concerts, piano recitals, and holiday programs.  He genuinely enjoyed every single minute of it.  He was a true fan of his family and everyone in it.  

Tim cheered on his beloved son Sean and beautiful daughter Tanya through decades of youth sports, not as a spectator, but as a coach, and even as a soccer league administrator.  When his kids aged out of teams he could coach he transitioned to the role of FIFA certified soccer referee, a role he took a great deal of pride in, investing in the young players, he loved the game, but loved the players and what they learned from it so much more.  He was a fan of Sean as he completed his college education, earning a doctorate after several master’s degrees, and eventually becoming a Dean and professor at Johnson University.  This was a point of great pride for Tim. 

As proud as he was of Sean’s education and vocation, he was infinitely more proud of Sean’s family.  Tim loved his daughter-in-law Beth dearly and their four children and thought of them daily, cheering for their sports, life, and academic achievements from Ohio, and visiting them in Tennessee as often as he was able.  Tim genuinely loved Ethan, Charis, Levi, and Zeke and wanted them to know, even though he struggled at times with how to say it, that each of them was uniquely loved and immensely important to him.

 

Tim and Barb have been active and indispensable in the life of their daughter and her family.  They were constant sources of babysitting, puppysitting, and support as they moved from Swanton, to Jackson, to Orrville and eventually to Ashland, where Tim and Barb finally settled.  They moved each time to be close to family, to invest themselves, and to share life with them.  Tim and Barb were present at nearly every possible event of “the boys”, even in the difficult 2020 seasons.  Caedon, Brody and Greyson, who nearly shared a birthday with Tim, will miss him at every event from here on out.  Tim was incredibly proud of his daughter and her career as a nurse, but even more so of the life she worked to create with her husband Chris.  Tim enjoyed watching the couple learn life’s many lessons and was always both encouraging and ornery in his advice and admiration regarding their milestones and achievements.  

Before being a grandfather, even a father, Tim was a husband.  He loved Barbara unconditionally for nearly 50 years.  He took his role as provider seriously, and he provided Barb with the best life he possibly could, but most of all, he truly valued her as his constant partner and participant in the life they shared, a life of love.  Love of God, and His only son Jesus.  Love of his son and daughter and their spouses.  Love of his grandchildren.  Love of his mother, his sister, and her family.  Love of his four-legged furry sidekick, Kibbles. 

Life took Tim from Findlay, Ohio to Slippery Rock, Pennsylvania where he played football for the university and won the heart of Barbara, to Morocco, Africa where their son was born, to Coldwater, Michigan where his daughter was born, to Swanton, Ohio where they raised their family and where he worked as an air traffic controller, to wherever he felt he was needed most to support and cheer on his family.  And now, near the end of this crazy year, he moves to Heaven, where he is now praising the Jesus he knew so well, spending Christmas this year in the presence of his Lord and Savior.

Tim will be missed by those who loved him, which, quite honestly, is nearly everyone who was lucky enough to have known him.  His quiet, but mischievous nature was magnetic.  He will be missed by his mother and sister, by his son and daughter, by his grandchildren, by former coworkers and teammates, by students on the buses he drove and by me, his son-in-law, who would give nearly anything for one more cup of coffee, or glass of wine with him.  Tim was a good, good man and a very good friend, and I will miss him the rest of my days as I spend them doing my best to love his daughter and grandsons, along with the rest of the family, unconditionally; with just a touch of ornery, just like he taught me.

May my Merry Christmas be sincere and my Hello be an opening line...

There are so many things that occur in the busy everyday, that don’t seem significant, that pass by without notice or circumstance, fading into the ether of a random day’s agenda...

Among these are the dozens of hallway glances, the office hellos and goodbyes, the “how was your weekends” and the routine conversations at the coffee pot or check out line.  

We go through life assuming these are merely mundane and manuscript, normal fodder for normal days...throwaway interactions and nondescript moments.

Oh...but what if they weren’t.  What if they were so much more.  What if every human interaction was viewed through the lens of one God-intentioned creation colliding with another God-intentioned creation, in the urgent present tense of a designed and distinct moment in the universe.  

What if we woke up and we realized that every human interaction, whether at the checkout lane or church parking lot was one that held inherent value and yet to be unpacked mystery.  All of us have a story behind our everyday persona, what if we cared enough to encourage one another to tell it, even just a part of it?  We are all worthy of a Paul Harvey monologue on what brought us to today. 

 We all have dreams that have been put on a shelf or in some cases put out to the curb.  We all want to explain what they were.  We all have a wish for whats next, what if we could communicate that to an ear eager to hear it? We all are designed for community and long to be known and to truly know others in our world.  We are all unbearably lonely, though few will openly admit it, and yet in this highly populated, constantly moving world we are rarely alone. 

So why are we perpetually too busy for more than just hello? Why is small talk the biggest investment we are willing to make?  Why are we willing to send a text or like a post but unwilling to make or answer an actual call?  When did a visit or catching up over coffee become too much to squeeze into the calendar?

Something in our very souls have been changed by the modern  world.  A longing for real connection has somehow been traded for the cheap substitute of clicks and likes.  Activity, busyness, scheduled chaos...all have taken priority over true communication, interaction,  and conversation.  

What’s in our calendar has taken a front seat to who's in front of us.  We have all willingly accepted being bumped for whatever is next.  We have done it willingly, if I accept you bumping off our lunch date for the meeting you have at 2:00, you will overlook the fact that I’ve been late for dinner two weeks straight or haven't returned the call...

It’s an epidemic of extinction level proportion, but we are all actively participating and eagerly accepting it with false grace and implied understanding every day.  It builds up in us and it erodes our humanness one interaction at a time.

We may not consciously know we want it to end, but our souls are screaming for it to stop.  Our very human essence is on the checkout conveyor kicking the phone out of our hands and looking us in the screen-glazed eyes and telling us we need to connect with that God-created being across the counter from us.  Will we listen this time or will we accept that we have things to do, places to be and schedules to keep...and move on to the next check box?

Maybe we can break through the ice one crack at a time.  Maybe if we change our habit to really try to connect, just one opportunity at a time.  One swing of the pick at a time.  Maybe if we can just try to interact, to communicate, to actually connect even if just for a few short minutes.  Perhaps we will come to understand that the encounters aren’t actually throwaway after all and that the humans around us are worthy of our respect, not just obligatory eye contact.  Maybe we can say something that lets our coworkers know we really do care about what happens outside of their 8-5 weekday life...

Perhaps our next expression of Merry Christmas could be just that - a true and sincere hope that the person across from us finds peace and happiness in their celebration of the birth and amazing gift of God’s only Son.  Maybe we still have time to be a bright spot on a dark night or a warm glow in a cold season.  

I pray that my interactions with you will add a log to your fire and a light to your tree.  I hope that I can slow myself down, take a breath and honor the creation across from me with the time and attention they deserve, even in a chance encounter in a hallway or doorway.  

I pray my Merry Christmases are sincere and my hello is merely an opening line...to a meaningful connection with a child of God and a unique and wonderful creation!  I am hopeful that there are others who are lonely in crowded spaces, who long for meaningful connection, and who will be brave enough to ask how I'm doing and care to hear the real answer.  I pray that I can connect with you and find out what your hopes for the future are, and just maybe I can help along your journey to get there, or at least listen intently to the rest of your story...