Two Sundays ago, September 22nd to be exact, Samantha invited me to join her in writing down our personal dreams. The dreams could be large or small, and there was no limit as to how many you could write down.This was my kind of deal! So I jumped right in and scribbled down everything I could think of. By the end I had compiled a list of exactly 38 dreams. Samantha and I then shared our list with each other.
As I shared a few of my dreams with her, I could not help but become discouraged. Some of the windows seemed to be closing on a few of my dreams regarding football. They were dreams I had so badly wanted to give up on over the past 3-4 years.Very simply, it seemed like God didn't really give a rip about these dreams. But I took a risk and held on; I trusted God with my heart and dreams.
The first dream on my list regarding football was 'to be restored on the field again, to play with an edge once more.' Very simply, I wanted to be myself on the field again. For a whole mess of reasons I will refrain from explaining, I had only been myself on two occasions in my 4 year career. Other than these two instances, I simply was not the player or leader I knew I could be between those white lines. This was a burden and sorrow I could not put to words.
Fast forward to Saturday, September 28th, I was myself once again. I was loud and aggressive. I talked lots of trash to the almighty UCM donkeys. I played with an edge and played well. I led my troops with passion and stayed in the fight for 60 minutes. It was a blast. I had the time of my life. Now this wasn't just like I flipped a switch and was all of a sudden myself once more. I have tried and strived on my own strength to 'flip the switch' for 4 years. That hasn't worked. This was a divine intervention. I know God had his hand of restoration on me this past Saturday. How do I know? I shared a rather real conversation with an angel all game long.
The angel I was speaking to was about 6'1 and weighed somewhere between 215-225 lbs. He was a black man wearing an away Truman jersey. Some of you might know him as Ivan James. From before kickoff until the clock read zero, Ivan James was constantly in my ear. Do you love football? Love it like the old Conrad. Be that gunslinger. Before and after every series. Between quarters and at halftime. Ivan was there reminding that I loved this game. It was Gods voice pumping through the raspy voice of Sir Ivan James. My heart is eternally grateful to both God and Ivan James for that dream come true.
The game continued, we had the over rated donkeys dead to rights, with 9 minutes left in the 4th quarter. We then self destructed and gave the game away. We were done. But God wasn't quite done with my dreams just yet. With 40 some seconds left, down by 28 points, I cut loose a bomb to my roomie and good friend Tony Pucci. We connected on a deep post for a TD. Though we were still down by 21, I was ecstatic. Absolutely thrilled. I nearly teared up as I ran to celebrate with him. Some of you reading this are asking Whats the big deal? Its a meaningless TD.. Yes, like anything else in life, without God in the equation, the TD was very meaningless. But when you walk with God nothing is meaningless. This TD was much more than the 6 measly points it put on our scoreboard. It was a living picture of overcoming 4 and a half long years of adversity. It was much needed healing from the God who cares deeply about both of our hearts. It was a much needed gift of joy wrapped in the form of Trips right 36 Mesh.
Below I have highlighted the other dream I had written down just 6 days prior to it coming true.
Though the picture cuts off the very end, the other half that is still yet to be highlighted reads 'To win the game.' I reckon I'll keep trusting God with the un-highlighted half, and see what else he's got up his sleeve this season.
Samantha met me on the field afterward with tears in her eyes and said "God cares."
Yes. He does care.
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