Christmas Countdown 2023 … Day 11

As I sat at one of John’s basketball games his junior year in high school, I heard murmurings and conversation brewing amongst the cheerleader moms. Something about the young coach who was pregnant and needing to step down to take care of her health. Since I was not a high school girl mom, I scooted down a bit and thought wow, that’s some big shoes to fill.

Glancing down at the collection of females with pompoms in hand and big bows positioned high on their pony tails, I silently wished godspeed to all concerned. 

But even as I thanked God again for finishing off my parenting years with a son who didn’t require all the extras that come with teenage girls, I heard a familiar voice in my spirit. There are  debates about if we can actually hear the audible voice of God and I have an opinion on that, but I certainly have found in my life that the Holy Spirit speaks to me with a distinct voice. 

I know it is Him because I would never talk to myself the way He does. He is brief and to the point. He “speaks” with a tone that gets my attention, but never makes me feel condemned. Convicted? Oh, yes. Condemned?  Never. 

And so it was that I heard that still, small voice whisper, “Maybe you should do it.” 

Being a godly woman and recognizing this as something He definitely would throw my way for a little refining, I believe I answered back in my own inner voice.

“If You want me to be the cheerleading coach, You will have to send someone directly to me to ask me to do it.” 

It was as close to “Here I am Lord, send me,” as I was willing to get. 

At the next game, I learned that someone had volunteered to become the coach and I breathed a sigh of relief. It had only been a test. Just God seeing if I was willing to step completely outside of my comfort zone.

Considering I have no desire to clap in rhythm or spell Victory several times in a row, ever, I smiled and moved forward with my life. I was already teaching a couple of classes a week at the small Christian school where all of this took place that was challenging me adequately enough. I felt I had dodged a spiritual bullet. 

Until the following year during the first week of school. Our principal, who I was Mother Superior to my often emotionally charged Maria, called me into her office. I never went to her office with fear and dread. I went wishing I had a tape recorder so I could replay whatever she said as it was always rich with wisdom and good counsel. 

As I sat across from her desk she said she knew I was a busy woman. I was already working part time at Talbots and teaching two classes in the upper school. She also acknowledged it was John’s senior year, but she was in a bind and had prayed and was going to ask me to consider coaching the JV and Varsity cheerleaders. 

The other shoe had dropped. All bets had been called in. While the surrender had been premature, it was still valid. Even as she told me to pray about it, I was shaking my head in disbelief and telling her I already had. I shared the conversation I had had with God the year before and she nodded knowingly. 

Of course He had given her my name.

Me, who never was a cheerleader.

Me, who is so uncoordinated I was assigned the role of banner bearer rather than pom squad for the high school band my freshman year.

Me, who giggled under my breath every time I saw girls somersaulting across the gym trying to keep their hiners covered in those little skirts. 

She told me she had a young, new teacher who was a former cheerleader. She would be able to teach the girls the routines, but Mrs. Dickey wanted someone over her who would help manage the inevitable drama and personalities that come with teenage girls. 

I told her I could do that and so I became the new coach. My family and friends who know me well had no end of delight in God’s sense of humor. It was a hard year and a year I wouldn’t trade for anything.

I learned and received far more than I taught or gave. Those girls’ hearts were precious to me and we grew up a little, all of us, together. 

I lost my mom that December, and was blessed to have a large number of new daughters come to her service to show love and support. The year was filled with so many blessings and to this day, I still am delighted to see how God has shaped and molded them into the adults they have become. 

It was a classic case of God not calling the equipped.

He equips the called.

And when we surrender to what we think will be the worst, it always seems to turn into the best.