It's Game Day Y'all

In towns all across America, people are gearing up for tonight. Months of hard work will finally be showcased tonight. Those hard working men (& some women) will finally be able to show off what they've learned, how they've grown, be seen under the lights, & have their names echo from the stands. And for a few moments, those ordinary, everyday youngins can feel like stars!

Those Friday Night Lights are legendary, especially in small towns in the south.

We are gearing up for our 11th football season. It takes over your time, your money, your car, your laundry. It takes away your voice, takes away your breath, & steals your heart.

As always, we start every season with hopes & dreams. Hope for a good season, hope for no injury, hope for success, & dreams of championships & glory.

This year is a little different for us, well for me anyway. I start this year with the same hopes & dreams, but mixed with anxiety, concern, & trepidation. (For the record, I'm not sure where the word trepidation came from. I'm not sure I've ever used it before, but as this post was flowing through my head, so was the word trepidation. So there you go.)

It was only a year ago that I watched, helplessly, as our family went through the biggest trial we've ever experienced. All because of a stupid decision during opening week of football.

I can't help but worry.

Even though I've seen my son grow. I've seen him change. I've seen him walk away from fights when I know his temper was boiling. I've seen him break up fights so others wouldn't get hurt or in trouble. I've seen him hit the altar at church with tears in his eyes. I've heard him call home from church camp absolutely broken about how good God has been. I've seen him make hard decisions that I know at the time he questioned. I've heard "I'm sorry for the hell I've put you through mom".

I've also heard the laughter return to his voice. I've heard joy & excitement when he talks about things. I've seen more friends coming back around. I've seen him opening back up. I've seen less worry & stress on his face. I've seen his eyes light up.

I can't help but worry.

After last season, he swore he wasn't playing again. My heart hurt. It hurt for him. It hurt for me. It hurt for missed opportunities & making memories. It hurt for regrets.

We have a brand new start this year. A brand new year, a brand new team, a brand new number (oh mercy kid, pick a number & stick with it), a brand new coach, a brand new set of plays, a brand new principle.

A brand new hope.

Don't mind me. I'll be the one praying fervently, screaming my head off, & ringing the cow bell for all I'm worth.

So here's to another football season & those Friday night lights.