Friday night Dax and I sat in a packed cheering section while the Cole Valley Christian Chargers (the basketball team to which Dusty has been assistant coach this season) triumphed their way into the 2A state finals. When the final buzzer rang...
"Mom, did we win?"
"Yes!"
"So Daddy's going to the state finals tomorrow?"
"Yes!"
"Well, what about my game?"
Dax started his first season in the Upward basketball program this year.
"Well, Son, it's going to be tough. Your game is at noon, and your dad's is at 1:40 fifteen minutes away. This isn't your last game. Would you be willing to miss it so we can go support your dad?"
"Mom, I can't miss my game. I can't let my team down." I was blown away by my eight-year-old's grip on the reality of that truth.
"You're right, Dax. We'll go to your game, and show up when we can to Daddy's. But I'm not sure your dad will be able to make your game. You need to be ready for that."
"But Mom, he said he would come to all my games!" I cringed internally as I remembered the words - again, flabbergasted that my second grader recalled the vow, spoken hastily as the van had turned into a Taco Bell parking lot.
"Well, Sweetie, I know, but no one knew there would be this conflict. His game is a big deal! Let's talk to Daddy and see." My son just looked at me as if the answer should be clearly painted in black and white on the cinderblock walls of the gymnasium.
As soon as he was out of the locker room, I procured my husband's ear and proudly relayed Dax's commitment to his own team. We shared a silent moment of awe. Then I repeated the heart-wrenching reminder. Dusty's face mirrored what my spirit felt, but he swiftly straightened.
"He's right. I'll be there."
"Honey, you CAN'T! The guys need you!"
"I'll talk to Coach. I'll figure something out - even for just part of it. I promised him."
So I watched on Saturday, as my husband knelt in front of his son and told him to play his best. He stayed for the first period, then headed to the arena. Dax played with more spirit than I've ever seen him give, then we sped out to cheer Dad on as his team became the state champions of the 2A division! And my son had the joy and privilege of celebrating his father.
There were a dozen possible excuses - good ones. But he chose to be true to his word. That's the kind of man I married. And our son is becoming that same kind of man.
I stood amazed as I watched faithfulness pass from one generation to another this weekend, as tangible as watching them pass the ball. Words are everywhere and often meaningless. It's how we live that brings the victory home.
"...who keeps his oath, even when it hurts..." Psalm 15:4
