“So, my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and immovable. Always work enthusiastically for the Lord, for you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless.” 1 Corinthians 15:58 (NLT)
The second week in Albania was much like the first, we worked another kids camp full of games, laughter, and heat heat heat. On the last day, we planned to do a few things different after lunch. Instead of being in groups and rotating between games, we gave the kids free reign to whatever activity they felt they wanted to participate in. Whether it was the bounce house, the playground, the soccer field, or the table filled with face paint, the world was their oyster for three or so hours. For us, we were going to have stations so that someone was always near an area that the kids were playing at. For obvious reasons, everyone delegated me as the supervisor for the soccer field.
[Finding love without futbol]
I showed up to the soccer field and the kids had already started a game. I jumped in and, well, attempted to choose a side to attack. However, despite my best efforts to ignore the older kids yelling at me saying, “yo yo yo” (translation yo=no); despite my many attempts to say “why not?;” despite my best efforts to continue the play and hope they would get over themselves..one picked up the ball. A mash of Albanian words were thrown around the circle as I just stood there confused. Lost. Frustrated. And more than anything, hurt.
[Finding love without FUTBOL]
One of the Albanian leaders came to find out what all the ruckus was about. I explained the situation to him. In the most light hearted way possible for me at that instance, I told him they wouldn’t let me play because, in my opinion, they were scared. He laughed and attempted to resolve the issue, but the kids would not let up. It’s not that they didn’t want to play with me. It’s that they absolutely refused. In the midst of it all, I was needed elsewhere for some post-camp gift basket making. I tried to shrug it off. I told the Albanian leader it was okay and to just tell the kids that I understood they were too afraid to get beat by a girl. Again he laughed and I tried to as well. I tried to pretend I was fine with being rejected. I tried to act like the gender discrimination here didn’t bother me. I tried to seem unaffected by their injustice. But I was still confused. Still lost. Still frustrated. And still, more than anything, hurt.
[Finding love WITHOUT futbol]
I began to arrange the gift baskets for the children to take home after camp. I played some Christian music to get my mind in the right place. I tried to stop the thoughts about what had just happened from continuing to marinade in my mind, but I just couldn’t shake it. Yes, there is some gender discrimination in the states, but nothing like I had just experienced. I had never been denied the chance to play soccer. Whether I was with all girls, all guys, or a mix of the two, I was always given the chance to at least participate. This was such a foreign concept in my mind and it wasn’t one that I took lightly. I thought as long as I’m here, by myself, doing this work for our host, I might as well try my best to make something out of it in order to grow myself somehow. So I sat and just tried to be still. I listened as hard as possible for God’s voice and almost instantly I could hear him. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.” Okay, God. I think I can take care of myself against some 12-14 year olds. “I needed you here instead.” Okay, God. But we are almost over-staffed. Anyone could’ve stepped away and done this sorting. “I wanted to talk to you.” Okay, God. I get that. But there are going to be plenty of opportunities for you to talk to me. “No, I needed to talk to you. Now.” Okay, God. Fine. Talk. What did you NEED to say now? “I love you.” Yes, God. I love you too. “I will always love you. I will never leave you. I would never treat you the way those boys treated you.” Okay, God. Then why did you let them treat me that way? “Because you needed to learn.” Learn what, God? Disrespect? “No. You needed to learn how the girls here feel. You see the women workers doing everything. You see all the little girls watching soccer while you play. You see more boys here than girls. You see the gender discrimination. You have full access to the knowledge of being placed below the men. But now you also have an understanding. You have experience. You have a deeper connection. I gave you your chances to play with them and I loved watching the joy on your face. But I needed you to see the other side of the spectrum. I need you to see why you’re here.” Okay, God. So why am I here then? “You’ll see.”
[Finding LOVE without futbol]
Once I finished making the gift baskets, I went outside to the front where everyone seemed to have mingled. There was dancing, face painting, drawing, and pure joy. I sat with some of the girls and drew with them, really trying to be enthusiastic. One of the girls saw a drawing I was doing and she wanted it. She was so elated when I came up to her with the finished product. She quickly grabbed it and thanked me. That felt good. But it wasn’t until another girl asked if she could paint my face. I hesitated, then I heard God say, “yes.” So I sat down and let her do her thing. Once she was done, another girl and boy came up to me and wanted to paint more. They covered my face with white, purple, pink, glitter. You name it, I had it. I looked like a crazy clown, but I LOVED it. The joy they had from me being their work of art was overflowing. I couldn’t help but smile. I couldn’t help but love the finished product no matter how scary I looked to everyone else. But most of all, I couldn’t help but completely forget about the soccer incident.
When you listen, God speaks. When you stand still, God shows up. When you ask, God provides answers. When you question, God gives clarity. When you are upset, God brings you back that joy in a bigger and better way than you’d ever imagine.
If I had been allowed to play soccer, I would’ve enjoyed myself. I would’ve had fun and experienced joy. I may even have had the chance to get my face painted after. But I wouldn’t have had that moment with God. I wouldn’t have had the chance to see first hand what women here go through daily. I wouldn’t have the understanding, the experience, the deeper connection.
Soccer has always been a top priority in my life. From rec to select, from high school to college, soccer has always been there. My last season was last fall and I know it’s over. But it didn’t feel real until that day. Until soccer literally wasn’t an option for me. It’s hard to know that my team starts preseason in 12 days and I won’t be there. It’s difficult to know that they will have bus rides, games days, and many memories that I won’t be apart of. It sucks knowing that isn’t part of my life anymore. But through the rejection, through the disheartening event, and through the moment I shared with God, I finally found love knowing that I wouldn’t necessarily be able to always have it through futbol.
