It’s warm outside again, which means soccer nights have started back up.
Tonight was the first game (and by game, I mean a pick-up game of whoever shows up) of the year and I was excited all day.
(Not so excited that I skipped my long run today. I did 7 miles!)
But when we got there, I got a little nervous. I’m such a newbie to soccer. I’ve only been playing for a few months, since we got married really, and I’m not very good.
Ok, I’m pretty bad.
But I could be worse.
And I’m getting better!
Slowly, but still…
I was afraid that all the improvements I made during the Fall would be long gone now.
I’d love to say that I’m always appreciative when Hubs has soccer tips and advice to share. That I always listen and try my hardest to do what he says. That I’m thankful he notices when I do something I could have done better…
But it’s not always like that.
Sometimes my pride gets in the way and I think he’s out of line to tell me something I could do better when I’ve only been playing for a few months and he’s played for years and years.
Sometimes my feelings get hurt because I want him to just notice that I tried to do something well, not notice why my intentions didn’t work and try to help me learn why.
Sometimes I’m just embarrassed.
But usually, most of the time, I’m truly thankful for his interest and advice.
It wasn’t an easy journey to this place though.
I’m a prideful being. I’ve had success in my life in many different areas and it’s hard for me to admit when I’m really terrible at something.
Plus, I’m competitive. I don’t like to be the worst at something. Especially when Hubs is so good!
It’s not that I think I will get better on my own, or that I don’t want to get better. It’s that I need to admit that I need help.
It’s hard to say we need help. And even though a spouse is someone especially close, it doesn’t make it any easier to accept our short-comings. In fact, I think it makes it harder. We never want to admit to being faulted, wrong, or needy to the one person who most inspires us to be better, stronger, and more appealing. At least that’s how it is for me.
I know that he wants me to have a good time, and he knows I’ll have a better time if I’m having some good moments mixed in with all my not so good ones.
I know that he has tips that will help me, and that if I listen to him, I’ll get better.
I know that he doesn’t ever mean to upset me with anything he says.
And with practice, and a humble heart, I’ve learned to accept these truths, no matter how grumpy I get when I miss a ball or pass to the other team or fail in my attempt to “cradle it like an egg.”
So I’m thankful for his help.
Really, I am.
And I look forward to those few “Good ball, honey!” moments throughout the night.
Here’s to a summer of soccer!
What about you? What struggles do you have with being humble? How do you overcome it?