Wrestling with the Good and the Bad

I grew up playing soccer on a girls team. I was slow, awkward, and unconfident. Living in Wexford, Pennsylvania there were a lot of girls that played soccer. I was one little fish in a giant ocean of graceful, confident, talented little super stars…or at least that is how it felt. Then, at the awkward age of twelve (8th grade) I found out we were moving to Bridgeport, West Virginia.  

I can still remember my mom delicately telling me that there were no all-girls teams in Bridgeport and I would be trying out for a co-ed team. I could feel my palms start to sweat and my stomach churning. I wasn’t even that good on a girls team, how in the world would I compare on a co-ed team? Well, the truth is, it was a “co-ed” team because I was there. If I had not been there, it would have been an all-boys team. If it weren’t for one of the boys saying hi (he had just moved from out of state and did not find it odd that a girl would play soccer) I am not sure I would’ve made it onto the field. 

Thankfully I made the team and had an incredible first coach. He believed in me and began to see areas of strengths and fit me in positions that worked with that. There was something freeing in some ways being in a place where “people” (fans, opponents) didn’t seem to expect much out of me, but my coach and teammates did.  The guys on the team became like brothers (which quite honestly made it hard to make girl friends once we started school that fall), but I felt like they had my back and trusted me. 

By the start of High School I had the option of trying out for the boys JV team, or not playing. Three of us girls decided we would try out, and thankfully we made the team. “Thankfully” because we didn’t have to stop playing, but it was in many ways an awful experience. For the most part it wasn’t the other players, nor was it most of the parents, it was primarily our coach. I can not even count the number of sexist remarks our coach made throughout that year. He would yell at players and call them a bunch of p*ssies. He would tell them to stop kicking like a bunch of f*cking girls, and then he would have me take the kick (which was so weird and confusing). There were a few times he had me go in drills with some of the varsity boys, for no other reason except to let them know it was humiliating if I did anything good against them because I was a girl. The few times I boldly told him I did not appreciate the words he used or how he talked to me or the team, he would smirk and stare right in my eyes and tell me I could go start my own girls team if I couldn’t handle it with the big boys. Yes, a 30something year old man twice my size would look at me ice cold, and the next minute around the parents he would smile and pretend that he was kind and great. I won’t even go into details about some of the comments opposing players made about my body or other comments while I was defending them, or the parents who were appalled I would play because they thought I would get hurt, or knowing that one of my boyfriends parents didn’t seem to like me because I was a girl on the boys soccer team. 

My mom and I did go on to start a girls soccer team at our High School the following year. We realized there were a lot of girls that might play if they didn’t have to play under the conditions we just had to.  Our team comprised of a few girls who had played soccer, a majority of athletes from other sports, and a lot of girls who had never played a sport but wanted to try it out. The rest of this is for another time and place, but I am proud to say that the Bridgeport High School girls soccer team won the State Championship in 2012. I’m sure most of those women have no idea what it took to get a girls soccer team started, and that’s okay. 

So, what is my point?  

Every person on this planet has a story. Since we live in a fallen world full of sinful people, there is pain, abuse, loneliness, isolation, sexism, racism, and the list goes on and on. I would say in the grand scheme of life, my experience was so small compared to the hurt and injustice other women (and men) have experienced. However, that doesn’t mean that my story and pain didn’t happen or should be brushed aside. 

I understand why so many people marched yesterday. It just makes sense for so many reasons (my soccer experience being one of them) and I am proud of my girl and guy friends that did. I also think it makes sense why it seems so unfair for a pro-life organization to be pulled from being a sponsor (I am pro life). I think this is part of wrestling with the good and the bad. 

Hypocrite is a word I’ve seen thrown around a lot recently, and I totally 100% agree with it. As a matter of fact, I would go so far as to say that every single one of us is a hypocrite. Haven’t we all lied or pretended to be something or someone that we aren’t all of the time? I know for me it is much easier to point my finger at someone else to show what they are doing or saying that is wrong than to take the time to investigate my own heart. Sometimes lately I feel like I am watching a bunch of toddlers saying “oh yeah, you think that about my person, let me tell you about your person.”  We want to view all people, all politics, all decisions through a lens of things or people being all good or all bad. I just don’t think it’s that simple. 

Here is my disclaimer: I do believe in absolute truth. I am a Christian. I do believe that our choices are either glorifying to God, or not. I believe that we all choose to follow Christ, or we reject Him. I do believe that the gospel (the good news) of Jesus is that out of his love, Christ died for our sins, He paid the penalty for our debt, and it is His grace (not our works) through which we are forgiven, have a relationship with God the Father, and are able to live a life of freedom (free from needing to live up to someone else’s standards, free from loneliness and despair, free from our sin). Following Jesus is not the easy life, but it is the best life, and the only route that leads to eternal life. Yes, my views are exclusive (in that I believe Jesus is the only way), but inclusive (in that not one of us deserves it or has earned it, and that anyone who believes can be saved). I get that just saying this will discredit many from listening to me. Being a Christian isn't just my "religion" it is more real about me than anything else. It is my identity, because in Christ I find who I am. 

The question remains, what do I do with this? How do I enter into discussions going on? Do I? I don’t have the answers. Can I be offended, but respond in love? How can I boldly proclaim the truth about Jesus, knowing it offends people, but do it also with compassion? What does it look like to not be silent, but not be aggressive? 

It seems like the more polarized we have become, the more “all good or all bad” we think people are, the more we are losing touch with the ability to connect with people different than ourselves. I am not an expert, I have so much to learn, in many ways I am such a hypocrite. 

Sometimes what I want is someone to listen without interrupting. I want someone to hear how I’m hurting and instead of telling me how it isn’t “that bad, “ encourage me to look on the bright side, or ignore me…I want someone to just simply say, “I’m so sorry that happened to you.” Isn’t that what we all want?” I would imagine that the most loving thing I could learn to do is to listen to other people’s stories, learn to empathize, and apologize for any ways I personally (or “we” corporately) have hurt them. 

Thinking to the future, I pray that I would be able to boldly walk with Jesus, that He would enable to me to more fully live a life of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and self control.