“How was your day?” …silence, and then “Uh,huh.”

His response tells me that his body is in my kitchen, but his mind is still in the gym.

“We’re out of milk.”…

“Uh, no thanks”

Now, I know he’s gone…his mind is on an out-of-bounds play or a new press break.

The man I married coaches high school basketball. Some may think that simply means our Tuesday and Friday nights are taken, but it’s so much more than that.

It means that for the next few months there is a group of young men that will see my husband more than he sees his own children.  He will spend more hours with his assistant coaches than he does with his wife.

People have asked me, over the years, if this makes things difficult for me at home?  My response is often, “It’s not about me.”  But, if I’m truthful, I don’t always handle it very well.  I would love to tell you that I take care of things on this end with a smile and an oven set at 170 degrees for the meal that he missed, again.  But, there were some days when my husband was greeted with an unpleasant, spit-up covered, crying woman that handed him a baby and merely pointed in the direction of the refrigerator and a pan of left over macaroni and cheese.

I knew when I married Darrin that he would coach. I envisioned myself sitting in the stands cheering on his team. Of course, I was lovely in that vision, the popcorn was great, and our team won!

But, that was not always the case. Most of the time, I was far from lovely. I didn’t factor in five kids. Four of them ages three and under. Games started at our children’s bedtime. Reality was that I was tired and the last thing I could imagine was putting on makeup and pants that had a zipper to go to an 8:00 basketball game. But I loved my husband, those boys that worked so hard, and basketball itself. So, I went.  We went.

Years ago, I remember leaving a game in Parkersburg, Iowa, on a cold and snowy night. By the time I had everyone go to the bathroom and get their coats on, the parking lot was nearly empty and my minivan was nowhere near the door.

I carried the baby, along with my ‘bag of wonders’ heaping with books, toys, diapers, sippy cups, and spilled popcorn. The wind was sharp and the kids were tired. The kind of tired when no one thinks they can walk anymore and if they don’t eat right now they just might die.

Suddenly, Maddie was missing a shoe and Jake dropped seven dinosaurs in the snow. We reached the van and it became apparent to me that Paige had a dirty diaper. I buckled everyone and attempted to change her on the floor of the van. I moved quickly as the cold wind whipped through the open door. Finally, everyone was settled and I jumped into the driver’s seat praying that the van would warm up soon.

The parking lot was completely empty now and the bus carrying Darrin and his team rolled past my parked car. I smiled and waved… and then I cried.  How could I be the last one to leave? We left as soon as the game ended!

Then, from the back seat, I heard, “I have to go potty.”  All I could do then was laugh.  Too embarrassed to haul everyone back up to an empty and, by now, locked school house we headed for the nearest gas station and once again, everyone piled out.

We would get home late. I would quickly feed hungry mouths bowls of cereal, brush teeth, and put everyone to bed. I found something for Darrin to eat as he still had an hour of game tape to watch and Algebra tests to grade. Finally, I would fall into bed promising God that I would feed those children a vegetable tomorrow night.

I still struggle to find balance as our, now school-age children, have their own schedules.  I swallow my pride and ask for help carting everyone around and I don’t see as many games as I should.  When it comes to Tuesday nights,  I’ve decided that life is just much more pleasant if the kids are tucked in their beds by eight.   Life is full of ‘seasons’.  I am in the season of caring for things here and though basketball creates a bit of chaos on the home front, I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I have seen so many young men benefit from spending their winter days in the company of their coach, my husband.

Darrin coaches with a bigger picture in mind. There is so much more to this game than just X’s and O’s. There are life lessons to be learned. He cares about those boys off the court just as much as on the court. He prays for them at our supper table. He worries about their grades and wants the best for them in their homes.

There are very few boys, walking the hallways of their high schools, that will become professional athletes.  However, there are countless young men that will become co-workers, husbands, and fathers. What kind of men will come from my husband’s teams? Will they hold their heads up high? Will they look you in the eye and shake your hand firmly? Will they work hard? Will they fulfill their role, now and in the future, for the sake of their team, their family, their business, even when it means doing the things that may go unnoticed? Will they be servant leaders who care more about people than points?

Those same young men will walk into an opponent’s gym on a Friday night wearing a shirt and tie, ready to do a job…to play a ball game. They will represent their family, their school, and their town. Winning is always the goal, but playing with integrity and good sportsmanship is a must.

Darrin will lead them by example. Never will you hear a swear word or a crude joke.  There is no need for that.  He is not a yeller, but he motivates. He pushes you to be at your best, but he never humiliates. You can bet those boys will not want to disappoint him. They respect him too much.

Of the many things I love about my husband, one thing that stands out the most, is that he is the same in my living room, as he is in his classroom, as he is on the basketball court.  I don’t know a lot of people like that, but to be married to one is truly a gift.

He is far from perfect and he’ll be the first one to tell you that. He makes mistakes. He learns from those mistakes and moves on.  With God’s help, he strives to do better.  He moves forward, but always… looks Upward.

Because I know this to be true, I will pray for a heart that is willing to share him with the many others that count on him.  May I see his time spent away from this house as an act of service and may I serve the Lord, too, with a happy heart, caring for his children and his home when he can’t.

And on those cold Friday nights when young people can stay up a little later, we’ll call popcorn and hot dogs our supper.  We’ll spend an evening in a gym, tucked away in a small Iowa town. We’ll cheer on a team that plays a game, that not only they love, but that they learn from.

What a blessing it is to sit back and watch ‘from my side of the bleachers ‘what Jesus might do with a basketball, some boys, and a man that loves all three.