I expressed this story in a Facebook post earlier tonight because of its entertainment value. However, I find it much more…expected…to get it on here.
Darco came home from work tonight, was awake for about an hour…maybe…but she’s long gone. She’s had a long day between work, and running around with me this morning.
This morning we found ourselves at Kansas City, Kansas. Our coaching staff along with a few Kansas City Shock players, were working with the Kansas City Kansas Soccer Association on a community “Soccer Fun Day”. It comprised of several stations, and a lot of soccer. Very entertaining to watch through the eyes of the guy that should never be allowed to walk on the field.
I was able to speak to a few players, learning of their backgrounds, passions, hobbies, and telling them a little bit about the Kansas City Shock. It was a few minutes after talking to them that our head coach came over to talk to me.
Her and I had a trip yesterday that resulted in a business meeting in Wichita, Kansas. From the meeting we ended up leaving with a few gift cards to a soccer supplies website that has amazing pricing on all sorts of things [imagine new cleats going for $13.00…legally]. Pretty cheap prices for great quality items.
Now, as we were heading home, the head coach [who has more compassion in her pinky compared to what I could find in my entire soul] suggested that I take one of the gift cards home and get Darco something. I declined; primarily because I thought it was selfish. I don’t know why, but it didn’t weigh well with me. We can afford a $9.00 pair of shorts. So, the cards stayed with the coach, and actually wound up at the clinic that we were at this morning.
There were kids at this clinic that played in standard tennis shoes. They couldn’t afford cleats.
Reminder: this isn’t Mexico, Guatemala, Sudan, or anywhere else in the world. This is the Kansas City metro area we’re talking about, the “Soccer Capital of America”, and I was looking at players who couldn’t afford shoes.
It didn’t even take our coaching staff a split second to figure out what to do. The gift cards went to a good home, and to good use. Players will have the right shoes now, and another new opportunity for community outreach has been met.
I truly wish more people could understand why I can easily state that this job, this life, this constant insanity is my ministry. It’s for moments just like this, for people just like the ones we worked with today, just for the game that the entire world plays.
And humorously, as I slowly fall asleep tonight, even with the fears of the unknown on my chest, I smile at the echoes of the faint, scarred voice from years ago:
…you sure are a poor excuse of a missionary. You let everyone down…