XO: Seasonal Paths

It’s officially cold tonight; much similar to what we awoke to this morning. Sadly, the summer has passed us for this year and the new season of autumn is in full swing.

I almost find it ironic to see the trends of seasonal changes within the physical world in comparison to my own meandering thoughts. Much like the leaves that fall and the wind that blows; change is inevitable and currently Darco and I find ourselves in a transition that we’re not overly prepared for, and we’re not sure the direction of where to go.

A few things have happened in recent weeks that have been big enough that they’ve kept us busy [and myself away from FilingThePapers]. All of them are very noteworthy, but they’re all very hard to fully decompress and extract into my mind [give it up for WinZip references].

I suppose most notably is the fact that MoVal has absolutely broken our hearts. Sadly, this is one of most dynamic adjustments that we’ve been trying to work through in the past few weeks. The pastor and his family is gone; more so out of bitterness, fear, and hatred then anything else. The church has unintentionally divided itself on some issues that surround the ongoing problem. Personally, I think a body of Christians in time of crisis have two options; flee or fight. Currently, it appears that fleeing is the option as I can watch the fear creeping into the Body. Once fear attaches itself into a church the damage can be unforeseen. What’s most frustrating for myself is that I made the mistake of placing my faith in a person [the pastor] instead of God. Talk about humbling, humiliating, and bitter…Secondly, I’ve been able to witness what it is like to be a protective husband. Darco has been an emotional, crying mess this past week. I. Don’t. Blame. Her. This is where she was baptized, where she became part of the ‘family’, and a safe haven that she called home. She’s confused and broken seeing what “home” has become. We were with MC and Jim this morning for church and Darco didn’t even make it ten minutes in before she broke down crying. That’s a hard thing to stomach as a husband, and it’s even harder not being angry with the people that did this to her. Don’t think the term hatred hasn’t crossed my mind a few times in the past 72 hours. How dare someone hurts my best friend! How dare someone stoops to the level to harm the heart of my beautiful bride! It’s unreal to see how selfish people that were great Christians can be, it’s hurtful and it painfully reminds me why I no longer dive head first into church involvement. We don’t know what to do. We both understand and accept that each church has their warts and flaws. My parents church was nice today; Sunday School was DEAD AWFUL, but what we heard during church was amazing. It was a great comfort to know that the things we do on a day-to-day basis isn’t insane [well it may be], but at the least we’re following God’s call and He’ll protect us. Does that mean we leave MoVal? I don’t know; Darco and I are spending a lot of time in prayer and meditation on what we’re supposed to do and what God wants us to do. This much I do know though; not a single person, in all their pride, will ever be in a position to hurt her again.

The area noted above gets amplified when you start talking about what I’ve been doing in recent weeks. Everyone knows by now that I’ve been spending my time outside of soccer inside the classroom. The money has been good, God has blessed it, and in September only two days of month I wasn’t filling for a teacher. I’ve been in class a lot, and you know the absolute worse part of it?

I’m enjoying it; a lot. This past week I was actually trusted with a curriculum, homework, lecture, and am currently…painfully…grading 120 packets from 6th graders on ecology vocabulary. Ouch. Needless to say I’ve been coming home with stories every day, “This student did this. This teacher said this. Etc…”, and my wife [and MC] have each said, “And you’re sure you don’t want to teach?” I’ve looked a few examinations (PRAXIS II), and I still hold my high school certification and license, but you don’t know how much I really don’t want to jack with the red tape that comes with being a teacher. Not to mention the harsh realization of the pay…hehe…that comes with it. On top of that, that’s not saying that anyone would actually hire me. I’m the ‘super sub’, but by no means does that qualify me as an actual good educator. Realistically, I have very little faith in myself in that industry. I enjoy the kids, the work, and the activities, but…it’s very…settling. Knowing that you’re locked into contracts, knowing that nine months of the year are gone, angry parents, irritated administration, IEP’s, gifted, etc…Is it really worth it? Saying that someone would even grab me of course.

Now, both topics would be practically non-existence without the elephant in the room; the Kansas City Shock. This…thing…has become the cornerstone of just about every difficult move known to mankind. Whether that’s being sure the bills are paid, groceries are purchased, the car isn’t dead, and the program is still functioning…ish. I’ve taken some serious hits with this program in recent weeks and months. After today’s sermon and giving a clearer look at things I’ve come to the understanding and admission that I’ve approached the Shock in recent weeks and months completely wrong:

The Kansas City Shock was never designed to be a managerial success story of hard work and the American spirit. It never was; that’s for everyone else. It wasn’t about the millions of dollars behind it, the financial work horse, or anything along those lines. It most definitely wasn’t built to imitate, replicate, or compete with other soccer programs in the area. Wasn’t the whole concept to “Dare to be different”? Wasn’t the goal to, “Shock the world”? How can you do that if you’re like everyone else? Why should I dress up for games? Practice? Interviews? Why would we sell scarves in July in the middle of the Great Plains? Who dictates these rules, and why am I following them?

My dream: Being able to step out of my rusty truck, cowboy hat on head, boots in the mud, walking with my staff in hand to this beautiful creation that’s merely an example of what God can do. Isn’t it alright for the “owner…hehe” to say that he isn’t rich, and him and his wife work 24/7 just to make life happen? We push this agenda of ‘don’t judge’ on just about every topic in our culture; unless of course it has to be with the strength of a business.

Why did I create the Shock? Because God told me to; there, it’s out in the open and I wouldn’t take it back. It’s His program, it always has been and it always will be. He’ll finance the field development, He’ll fund the seasonal budgets, and He’ll ensure that Darco and I always have something on our plate. I don’t understand why this ongoing temptation of being someone I’m not haunts me on the day-to-day. People don’t need another “American work-ethic” story. They need something different that lasts, affects the multitude, and shocks the world.

So; to recap. Darco and I have no idea what to do about church situation. There’s the risk/temptation/disbelief of myself heading into the classroom full time. The Kansas City Shock is going to be a jaw dropping, God inspired ordeal.

…did we mention that MC’s and Jim’s church is looking to potentially plant a church within proximity of the Kansas City Shock development, and the school district I’m currently involved in?

Seasons are changing.

-D-