Most of the time I just look at January 1st as the next year, another year in my life, your life, and our existence as a whole. Things like candy canes and Christmas trees are on record breaking sales, and children are going stir crazy wanting to go to school to show [break] their newest, coolest technology gift.
It’s all about a new cycle, but in many ways it is just a change of date. From 31 to 1, like so many other months in the year.
With that said, I look at 2013 with shortness of breath. Unlike past years where I have seemed to have the mindset of, “Just make it till…”, I see 2013 as a year of endless possibilities, and one very special ride.
The obvious fact is that in four/five months from now I’m going to be held responsible for the success or failure of the Kansas City Shock. It’s realistically a short stint of a season, stretching from May to early August, compared to professional leagues, but the time and effort that has already gone into it; I’d like to say that attempt would rival any professional program.
Heading into the early morning of the second day of the thirteenth year of the second millennium I find myself peering down this slope of unknown. Needing to tie down funding, home fields, players, and everything else in between is daunting, yet refreshing. I think back to two years ago when I was content with being a teacher for thirty to forty years of my life, not saying that’s a bad lifestyle, living in the middle of the state of Missouri; going to the same church as my now ex-wife’s family, and just living the standard, average American life.
Peering down the scope of a roller coaster has never felt so invigorating. I would say that I love the risk and reward that lies with every twist in turn, but in reality sake I just want people to be able to walk away thinking, “Wow, there is something, or someone, much more powerful in charge of this program.” If my life’s work is summed up by a field, a ball, and two goals; so be it! What’s more important is to be able to look past the hype, press, media and everything else and simple ask, “Did I succeed in my mission?”
What is my mission? Simple, it’s to glorify God. The brass tacks point towards the absolute reality that my mistakes, and my misdeeds and poor judgement cost me everything. It’s only by God’s grace that I didn’t go bankrupt. It’s only by God’s grace that I found a job making sandwiches [again]. It’s only by His grace that I received a promotion. It’s only become of Him that I was able to relocate to Kansas City, only then was I able to cover a women’s soccer match, and only with the surroundings of 17,000 screaming fans, was I able to see a vision clear as day. Since then, there hasn’t been one paper filed, one idea scripted, one phone call made, or e-mail sent that hasn’t had His hand on it.
Call me brash, bold, and careless; and I’ll probably agree. However, if I’m to be known for anything, it best be my God being shown through my human transparency.