I had a great conversation last night with my RV park
neighbor. He’s a football coach and I
was curious so I asked him in the smaller towns (really small towns) is the
pressure as great to win from the communities as it is in the schools at the 6A
level. He didn’t say that it was greater
but just present. He remarked on how
there is a pressure to win.
But more complicated than that, there is also the pressure
from parents to support their individual child.
I saw the same thing in my day.
One family is able to pay more to the booster club so their son got a
starting spot or more playing time even if he wasn’t the better player.
Helicopter parents pay thousands of dollars starting with 5
year olds in pee wee to send their kids to sports day camps at
universities. They give them good skills
and experiences. But the parents have
dreams of scholarships and perhaps fame for their child. And when ability doesn’t match expectations
the blame has to be laid on someone else. It's laid on coaches, teachers, anyone else. Sadly, there really shouldn't be blame. The only reason it exists is because our expectations were skewed.
That’s where are society has moved.
(Related side note: It’s funny how outsiders complain about
how the Church spends money or asks for money.
In all my years as an active Christian I’ve never seen a dime spent on
anything that didn’t promote the worship of God or provide for the temporal and
spiritual needs of God’s people.) But we'll spend thousands on sports related futures that may never materialize.
As I was riding today it occurred to me that this mentality
is a trickle down of American exceptionalism.
We are a great country with great values. We have wealth like no other nation in
history. That mentality run in our
veins. WE ARE GREAT! (Lol) Our/My child is exceptional. The problem is: Not everyone can be
exceptional. That’s the very nature of
“except-ion.”
As I was thinking about the German and Czech pioneers that
settled central Texas their experience was wrought with struggle. The people that came were middle class. The landed gentry and nobility stayed in Europe because they were
comfortable. The poor couldn’t afford
the journey. The middle class risked life
and what little property they had for a bigger future. Many died in transit and some even after they
arrived. When faced with the harsh
reality of the land their plans changed and found work in the cities.
But the harsh conditions and life teetering on the edge kept
them humble…faithful.
Speaking of changing plans I’m adapting as I go. When I originally plotted this course I
estimated my mileage based on my experience in Spain. I underestimated several factors in
planning. The heat, the hills and headwinds,
and the trailer I’m pulling behind me with all my camping gear. I didn’t have the trailer in Spain.
I had estimated (conservatively mind you) thirty to forty on
average. It was a grand tour I had
planned to get to Fredericksburg and back home.
In fact Fredericksburg was a long shot anyway but the plan was for this
to be a round trip. In reality the head
winds coming from the north and the trailer I think have contributed to my
miscalculation. I’m riding just over
twenty miles per day and I’ve needed more rest days than anticipated. I am not ready for the MS 150.
Or maybe I've met my limit.
I don’t know yet.
Regardless, I’m recalibrating. When I first began planning this pilgrimage of
prayer I wanted to travel along the Old Spanish Trail (US 90) to the Painted Churches and culminating
in San Antonio with the mission churches along the San Antonio River. I am reverting back to that original
plan. I’ve got a couple of hard days
riding ahead of me, but I hope to arrive in San Antonio by Saturday and visit
the missions on Sunday. If all goes well
I’ll figure out how to pack my bike and trailer and catch a train back to Houston.
Otherwise I need someone to come get me… ... ... crickets.
Blessings to you all.
If you have prayer concerns you’d like to share with me, message me on
Facebook, and I’ll talk to God about you. J
No comments:
Post a Comment