The worst replay

I shall cherish this picture.

It shows our #4 in action with her teammate.

And she’s our second girl to wear the number, so it’s special.

Last night was the end.

One of our players, who won’t play again because she is a senior, walked by me last night.

All I could do was hug her.

I didn’t even speak.

I texted another player who hadn’t emerged from the locker room yet.

She’s been a close friend to our girls for 10 years and I’d adopt her in a heartbeat if there were ever need.

I plan on hugging her at tonight’s boys’ game.

She too is finished, a senior.

Another one of our senior players didn’t even play last night.

Her season was over when her shoulder was put out of socket in a different game.

My heart wanted to break as I watched them help her off the court.

It wasn’t the first time it’s happened.

She’s been to surgery for it.

My compassion as a Mom almost kept me from doing my stat job.

I’ve known that player for ten years as well.

But last night was the worst replay,

I never wanted to see.

Last year was the most painful basketball season of our lives.

Taking first one and then another of our girls to the hospital for injuries.

And unfortunately, our #4 had more time in injuries than play.

Our #32 was able to finish out the season while her sister watched from the bench.

But last year in playoffs one of our Freshmen was heading down court with the ball, she was going toward the hoop.

Then it happened.

Her leg jerked out and she crumpled to the floor while a cry of pain split the cheering atmosphere like a knife.

Dead quiet,

five individuals from separate places jumped into action.

Our player was quickly surrounded by her parents and 3 brothers.

As they carried her from the court, obviously in pain, holding one knee I prayed.

My heart cried.

Much later her Mom told me the details.


The morning of, I was praying.

She’s tough and her smile and her love of sports wasn’t hindered.

And the team was glad when she rejoined them.

But last night I sat in the stands, taking stats and

the same thing replayed.

She crumpled to the floor clutching her other knee.

Again her family joined her on the court and carried her off.

This time too I prayed

and cried.

My husband wisely reminded me that allowing myself to get too upset wouldn’t help them.

I was able to finish the game stats, but my heart was sad.

The team was too.

At home, in my room, praying for them all, I told the Lord how much I never want to see people hurt.

Even in this I am there.


In focusing on the pain and trials which are common in this broken sin-drenched world,

I’d forgotten two words from Scripture:

“But GOD…” (emphasis mine)

He is able.

He is faithful.

He will work in this as well.

“Lord, thank You for the times our girls got to play together. Thank you for the fact that we can stand with one another, both in prayer and love, to support and encourage. Lord, thank You for the loving family who were there when their daughter needed them. Please help this to bring them closer to each other and closer to You. Please speak to #22 and help her learn to hear Your voice. Use this time to create a personal close walk with You, Jesus. Please comfort and heal and remove anything which would stand in her way from becoming more Your daughter. For life is greater than basketball and much more important than a season. I love You, Jesus. Thank You for never leaving us nor forsaking us.”

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