I saw a quote on Pinterest the other day that said something to the effect that, “my girlfriends know me, but my teammates have seen my blood, sweat, and tears.”
On that note, I have never been a part of a sports team.
NO, that’s not true… I was a part of a 6th grade volleyball team.
I was the scorekeeper.
It took me 5 minutes to figure out the scoreboard, and then I volleyed a ball off of the wall the rest of that, and every other one of the practices. I was so bad at volleyball, I wasn’t even allowed to practice with the team. My friend Tiffany can testify that I am not in the least bit exaggerating the truth about this.
Being the sister of 2 brothers, I am very familiar with teams. My brothers have played one sport or another their whole lives. Primarily, they played basketball given that they are 6’6” & 6’7”, but they have also played football, and some wrestling and soccer.
I have also been a part of other types of teams. I’ve always had my family. I had Mr. B’s youth choir. I had my youth group. I had college group. I had LifeGroups.
Each team had its own level of unity.
But have recently discovered the value of a new team God has allowed me to join.
My team is a far more than a group of girlfriends. They are my team. We have seen each other’s blood, sweat, and tears. We have celebrated wins, and grieved losses. We have encouraged each other to “play the game” harder, or with more passion/enjoyment.
My team knows that we all play our own positions, and therefore we do not need to be competing with each other. We see how our positions work together to help us all finish the game with excellence. We know the value of hard work, discipline, and team work.
My teammates don’t let me stay average. They push me harder than any sports team I could ever think of. They make me a better me.
So when Christina went to the women’s event this week at her church (shaking in her boots), my team went, too.
They prayed for me from a distance. They gave me “good games” (minus the pats on the hiney) as I helped get women get checked-in, and helped women find seats in the auditorium. They took their positions and worshiped as another of our teammates lead us in worship. They celebrated the victory of a great evening of encouraging each other to good works.
They gave me encouraging words when I went to a baseball game this week.
They answered honestly when I asked their input on my strengths and skills.
They sought me out to give me hugs or spend time with me when they knew my husband would be out of town on my birthday. They showered me with birthday cards, gifts, and wishes. One opened her home to host my birthday party. One calls me every year to ask me a traditional birthday question my Mama always asked me. One helped me with a sick kiddo.
You see “girlfriends” may know me, but these ladies have seen me bleed, sweat, and cry. They are my teammates. I might never have been any better at being a girlfriend than I was at volleyball, but I can be an awesome teammate, and I wouldn’t trade my teammates for anything in the world.