Since stumbling upon the news of the death of Osama Bin Laden, I've been wandering around the Facebook (and general internet) world, partly to be distracted from all of my conflicting emotions, and partly to observe what, and how, others were reacting to the news.

For many it turned political immediately, and I played into that a little bit with a dig at my (still) favorite Republican target and scapegoat, dubya, by referencing his now infamous "mission accomplished" banner eight years ago, ironically enough, to the day. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy that this happened on MY President's watch rather that his predecessor. But even as those words come out of my mouth (so to speak) here, I am sickened and embarrassed that "happy" even made it into that sentence.

The debates will continue. So will the celebrations. I, for one, can't wrap myself up in a flag tonight and party in the streets - - but I sure as heck understand why those who've experienced a loss directly related to Bin Laden can. Am I glad my children and grandchildren will grow up in a world without Bin Laden in it? Yes. Do I condone violence, war, or killing? No. So, all of tonight's wandering and reading has left me no-less conflicted than when I first started, but here's what it boils down to, for me:

I believe the God I follow rejoices with His/Her children's triumphs, cries with their heartaches, and grieves for their lost souls ("lost" as in "no direction"; NOT as in "not saved & thereby going to hell"), and I believe that God can do all of that at the same time.

I believe God is meeting people in their rejoicing tonight has as he met them in their heartache on that fall day in 2001.

I believe God loves us all - yes, even Osama Bin Laden - and that God wants us to try to do that as well.

I believe that God calls us all to be a people of peace.

So, I'm left where I started - wondering how I feel about all of this. It's not any clearer now than when I first heard the news earlier tonight. And maybe, that's as good as it will get for me on this one.

"it's just a game"...

i'm wandering around the house tonight, a bit teary, and quite a bit sad because my team lost. there's complete devastation in japan. two friends are building rubble houses in Haiti this week. some friends 300 miles away are mourning the life of a young man - a life tragically cut short in an auto accident...and, yes, i'm crying because my team lost, but, no, i haven't lost my perspective.

beyond the hours of hard work put in by the players, & the hundreds (okay, thousands) of dollars spent by parents (and grandparents and coaches) as skills are honed through "Y" ball, AAU, club sports, etc., the "game" brings with it a host of intangibles, and it is those intangibles that form my (un-lost) perspective. they create the lense with which i view "the game", and they are what make "the game" so very, very much more than a win, or a loss.

for me, "the game" includes...

* childhood memories of sitting in my daddy's lap, watching "the tall guy with the funny shot" (Lew Alcindor - now Kareem Abdul Jabbar) play for "that team that's winning all those games" (John Wooden's UCLA Bruins in the late 60's). that's why i love sports the way i do today. it all goes back to my daddy's lap...

* proud mom moments as my children excelled on the courts,

fields, tracks, and, now, the stage, while doing the same, if not more, in the classroom, and as friends, citizens, and people.


* lifelong friendships, grounded in the games' joys, sorrows, and even the games' "mundanes" (think playing outfield in a tee-ball game), with those who warmed the benches of the bleachers with me.

* for coaches, and other role models, who were part of the village that helped to raise my kids, and who remain a part of the village that supports, encourages,

and cheers them today.

* young single-mom memories of our family's football picks which included monday night picnics on the living room floor with hot dogs, chili, pop, and lots of laughs.

* older mom memories-in-the-making with our annual march madness brackets, pored over with careful thought (or, in my case, just blind love for a lifelong favorite team) all in order to claim the 12 months of bragging rights.

* road trip, after road trip, after road trip, after road trip, after...

* team dinners.

* weekend days (or nights) at the stadium with people I love.

* laughter.

* tears.

* big game parties.

* shared moments of all of the above, often in the midst of all sorts of the turmoil that life brings; moments that, when all is said and done (either in the moment, or in our lives), really, really, really matter - - really mean something, and really define us - define me.

yes, i get all of that (and so much more) from "a game". so please, when that game doesn't go the way i want it to, don't "poo poo" my tears, or my heartbreak, or my disappointments. don't write me off as "silly". don't mock my passion and emotion....and, for God's sake, don't tell me "it's just a game". that only makes me feel badly for you for if all you are seeing is "just a game", you're missing out on so, so very, very much more.