After I decided I was done wrestling, I never thought I'd step on a wrestling mat again. I went to a college that didn't have a wrestling program, but was always willing to take on a challenge when someone was talking smack. It was weird because I still loved the sport, still do, but I didn't want to do anything with it. I didn't even want to watch the NCAA tournaments, it was painful to watch others do what I loved.
In the fall/winter of 2010 I moved back home after almost a year in Michigan, which brought about its own wound, and ended up at a match my little brother was competing in as a seventh grader. His coach happened to be the very first wrestling coach I ever had, and he saw me and called me over. As we talked he asked me if I was interested in helping out with the eight grade team. At this point I hadn't wrestled in years, but decided it might be fun to help coach, and so I agreed. I dug my stuff out of my parent's basement and started going to practice again. I got to meet some good kids, and since their mascot is a bear, and I'm a bigger guy with a decent beard, they gave me the nick name "Grizzly Bear" (I'm not going to lie, I really like that nick name).
Being around the sport again was good. I still had it (at least enough to be able to beat some eighth graders who had only been wrestling for a few months), but I got to teach a couple things, and help encourage guys with potential. I learned that I enjoyed coaching, and it opened my eyes to opportunities to be involved in the community as a pastor.
The season ended in February, I took a job as a lead pastor of a church in April, which also brought about a wound, and that fall I met with the new head wrestling coach of the local high school to talk about doing some volunteer coaching. Again, I got to meet some great kids and coaches, because of my job they gave me the nick name "Preacher" (it was cool because it showed they liked me, but I still prefer Grizzly Bear), and got to be involved with the school district in some unique ways. Sadly, I only got to spend one season with this team, it was one of the highlights of my time as pastor in the community, and I was really looking forward to the next season. However, this opportunity led me see my high school coach for the first time in almost a decade.
For a while God had been laying it on my heart to try and reach out to my old coach. I wasn't sure how to go about that, and in all honesty I really didn't want to face him. The wound was still unhealed, but I couldn't get over the fact that God was leading me try and talk to him. I had gotten to the point where I had forgiven him, but I didn't really know how I felt about telling him that. Then the post season started, and the head coach I was working with invited me to come the District Wrestling tournament and help coach. I was free that Saturday, and so I agreed to go. After I agreed, it hit me that my former high school competed at the same district tournament as the school I was coaching with, and there was a good chance I'd see my old coach.
I drove to the tournament that morning thinking about what I'd say, how I'd bring it up, and if I'd even have the opportunity. I got there, found the team, and got caught up on who was still in, and when guys were wrestling (This tournament also happened to be in the same gymnasium where I wrestled my last official match).
I had been working with the heavyweights on our team, and he was one of the first matches that day. As I waited with him by the mat he'd be wrestling on, I looked up and guess who was standing two feet in front of me to the left. Yup. I froze for a minute, doing a triple take to make sure I was seeing my former coach. I didn't know what to do, I figured I'd see him at some point during the day, not literally right before the first match. I tapped him on the shoulder before I could talk myself out of anything, and he turned and just stared at me, I was heavier, and fully bearded, and then I told him who I was. He immediately recognized me, we shook hands, he looked to see what school I was with, and then started telling me that they had just been talking about me in practice, working to push their guys to do well academically (I averaged a 3.9-4.0).
The topic of my wrestle off never came up. I never got the words "I forgive you" out of my mouth, and in all honesty the middle a gymnasium floor surrounded by wrestlers, coaches, referees, and score keepers really isn't the place to open that up. I only saw him one other time that day, we passed each other in the hall, acknowledged one another but didn't exchange any words, and I feel that's ok. I had forgiven him, and I knew that.
Part of me thought this marked the end of the wound, that the healing was done, but it still hurt, I still talked about the event with anger, and there was still work God needed to do...
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
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