Try not to get kicked in the face

When I was a freshman and my brother was a junior in college, I decided to join him on the intramural soccer team. Not since our youth had we played soccer together, so this was fit to be a bit of an adventure.  I played goalkeeper and my brother was a “sweeper” or full back.  This means he was the last defender before the ball got to the goal.

On one particular game, my brother got beat by a forward and I was left to defend the goal by myself.  This was a rare occurrence, I might add, considering he was lightening fast and ridiculously competitive).  I ran out to greet the striker in a one-on-one dive whereupon I lay out horizontally and attempted to steal the ball from the opposing player. 

The plan was sound.  The execution was costly.  As I flopped onto the ground the forward wound up and kicked at the ball.  Since I had arrive a bit quicker than the opposing player had anticipated the ball was in my hands and his foot ended up kicking me in the ribs.

Silence.  I had never had the wind knocked out of me like this before.  I remember gasping for air like I had just landed on Mars.  Of course, once I was able to take a breath, I inhaled as deeply as I could only to cause my broken ribs to make me cry like a little schoolgirl.  Man alive, that was a lot of pain.

My brother, seeing me gasping for life and riling in agony on the sparse turf looked me in the eye and asked the necessary question, “Are you alright?”  To which I responded with a headshake and tears.  Mind you, I was 19 years old.

My brother picked me up and carried me to his car.  He buckled me in as I awkwardly hunched forward and moaned.  He drove me to the hospital.  He stayed with me the whole time and made sure I made it back to my dorm room, six hours later.  He never said a sarcastic word.  He never laughed or taunted me.  He simply was present and loving.

I will never forget his fatherly compassion.  I will never forget the look of genuine concern on his face and the immediate move toward action.  It pays to build healthy brotherly relationships.  Trust me, I know.

Family can be weird and dysfunctional sometimes.  It can be the source of tension and frustration.  It can be violent and hurtful. But it can also be a glimpse into salvation.  Remember to call your brother or sister this week and secure the roots of healthy relationship.  You never know when that might come in handy.