For those of you who are familiar with my blog you will know that my youngest son is a goalie for a water polo team. He took to water polo when he lived for a couple of years with his dad in Florida. Within the span of a year or two he became one of the best goalies in the state.

God moved his dad back to Texas and I was so happy to reunite with my son. He missed his Florida friends and his water polo team at first but he soon began to adjust to life in Texas again.

Part of that adjustment was getting back into water polo again. This year he was named captain of his team along with another player. He has a very good team to play with this year but you wouldn’t have thought so if you had seen them play today. They lost both games.

Their water polo coach is a tough guy and he doesn’t expect anything but the best from his team and when they don’t give him the best he lets them know in no uncertain terms.

I go to almost every game and video tape the game so that my son can review his games and analyze what he could have done better.

After the miserable loss they had today I was waiting to talk to him. I was in the lobby of the Natatorium and he was by the pool. A glass wall separated us.

After the game his coach tore the team a new one for the loss and I could see that the players were ashamed of how they had played. He went on and on using hand gestures, speaking with authority, telling them again and again what they had done wrong. It was quite interesting to see their body language and their crestfallen faces without being able to hear what was being said to them.

Finally the coach had told them enough of what they did wrong and he left. The circle of young men started to disperse and then I saw my son outstretch his hands yelling,”Stay, Stay.”

The team turned around and gathered around my son. Once again, I watched their faces. They were closer to my son than they had been to the coach. Occasionally a smile would burst forth. They  were nodding their heads and a few people gave their input. I could tell they were listening to my son, tuning into what he said.  He had their respect.

It was remarkable to see their body language transform from one of shame to one of hope.

I have a theory that some people view God as I viewed the coach. A God who is always ready to point out our faults, shaming us into submission.

I have viewed him as a captain of the team. Someone who is there to impart hope and inspiration, extending his hands and saying, “Stay, Stay,” drawing us into His embrace of love and forgiveness.

I can truly say that today I saw God’s spirit work through my son to give hope to his team.

I couldn’t have been prouder. Kind of an unusual reaction from a Mother who just witnessed an upsetting loss for her son.

As I have always told my children, it really isn’t about whether you win or lose, it is all about how you play the game.

In my eyes, my son was a winner today and he won much more than a water polo game. He won one for God.