The difference teachers make!

Today I want to honor two teachers in my children's lives who made a difference.  They are great teachers, but they also do more - they are both coaches.  One is a junior high girl's softball coach and the other a high school wresting coach.  Today I'm bragging on them, but one will remain anonymous ... you'll see why in a few paragraphs.

The first amazing thing happened last night at Cathrine's junior high softball finals.  Cathrine's not actually "on" the team - she is a "manager."  As a seventh grader with no experience, she wasn't good enough to make the team.  But her good attitude and work ethic got her a sideline position as manager.  She would practice fully with the team, she just wasn't guaranteed a spot.  She was disappointed at first, but we were proud of her decision to accept the position as manager.

She did get to play in one game, when the team was too far ahead to lose.  Then last night, they were in the semi-finals.  The other team was ahead 6 to 2.  We were at last bat, when Mrs. Davis called for Cathrine to run.  I was shocked.  I looked in the dugout to see Cathrine frantically trying to find a batting helmet, she grabbed a bat and ran on the field.  Only to have Mrs. Davis stop her and tell her to put the bat back.

Mrs. Davis had called for a substitute runner for the girl on first base.  So she pulled my little speedster out on the field.  The game resumed.  Cathrine stole second.  Then third.  Then the batter hit it a line drive and Cathrine made it home.  The crowd cheered.  Cathrine grinned like crazy. 

Sadly, the team lost despite heroic measures.  But I'll always be grateful that my little girl got to score a run for her junior high team.   You see, this is Cathrine's last chance to play on the team.  Due to her age (16), she'll have to go to high school next year, and will skip 8th grade.  But she'll always remember this game ... and a coach who believed in her.

Cathrine 6 years ago (on right)

Cathrine now.

There's one more wonderful coach story.  This past weekend, my middle son, Dylan hurt his knee wrestling.  In fact, he couldn't put weight on it.  He's a really, really tough kid, so when he says he hurts - it's true.   He was loaned crutches and was looking at being out the rest of his senior season.  

He was devastated.  Yesterday he went to practice, even though he couldn't do anything.  But since he's the captain of the team, he wouldn't be anywhere else. 

When I came home from Cathrine's game, my husband said, "You're not going to believe this, but _____ prayed for Dylan  after practice and his knee doesn't hurt."  My jaw dropped (really, it did, I'm not just writing that for effect).  A high school teacher prayed for my son?

I ran up the stairs to find Dylan, and confirmed that indeed, he was walking fully on his knee.  Dylan said he asked for prayer, knowing this individual was a man of God.  The coach prayed for him in his office, and Dylan said his knee felt warm, then no pain.  He walked out of the room pain-free.

That same son just headed out the door for a seven-mile run. 

There's nothing else to say but "Praise God!"  For His healing, and for placing strong Christian men (and women) in the public school system.  

For the fun of it, I wanted you to see a photo my boys took a few weeks ago.  They allowed them to take "buddy" shots, and the Whitwer brothers tried a crazy move.  It took multiple shots, but they finally got an incredible one.   When you see this, you'll get an idea of my life.  This shows their personalities perfectly.

This really is the right view.  Dylan (17) is doing the back bend, tossing
Robbie (15) over his shoulder.  And yes, they both came home
bruised from a photo shoot.



That's about it from the Whitwer house today.  I can't seem to catch up after the holidays.  So my posts aren't as frequent.  I'm close though ...

In His Love,
Glynnis