Brave
Much has been written here of our sweet Trey Isaiah, of the anxieties and irrational fears that have proven effective stumbling blocks to him embracing so many opportunities thusfar in his life. Though no one can point to any significant event or traumatic experience, we do know this began around age three. And ever since then, his sheer terror of simply being looked at has dictated much of his life, and has been the source of frustration, arguments, tears, scripture-quoting, prayers, and encouragement.
He's a Harris, and true to form has not been willing to budge one bit on his mindset until he was good and ready.
Last summer, the flyer for basketball camp came home. I knew he'd refuse. I showed him the flyer, reminded him that his Daddy was running this camp, and that it wouldn't be a whole lot different from those high school open gyms and practice sessions he was so fond of attending. He turned it down cold. Think about it, I said.
Out of the blue, several days later he said he wanted to go. Never wavered or changed his mind. Had a blast and won the shooting competition on the last day.
This past fall, for the first time ever, he got visibly onstage with his class in front of a cafetorium full of peers and parents, and played the ukulele. As he returned to his seat after the performance, then all the way home and for the rest of the night, beamed at me.
Over Christmas, he finally manned up and did his job as a member of the children's program at church. Sat with his group onstage and helped sing a song during Nana's choir cantata.
In the span of six months, and so very unpredictably, came such a long way.
But then.
We got an email from Mr. Mullins, Trey's PE teacher. Trey won the basketball shooting contest for the school, and was invited to the county-wide competition. It would be Trey's choice as to whether he wanted to participate.
The dagger of non-mandatory.
We talked about it for days and days. No way to ease his mind by preparing him for exactly what would happen, because we'd never been there. But such an honor, and a way to actually use the skills that God has obviously given him.
He refused, of course. We continued to talk and pray over it, though, and a short time later he made up his mind to go. His gym teacher and principal were surprised and happy to hear the news, as were his Daddy and Mama and grandparents. Except that surprised and happy doesn't do it justice.
There was a month between the decision and the contest itself. I brought it up regularly just to gauge his feelings. He was uneasy. On the one hand, there would be lots of people there looking at him. On the other hand, a win meant going on to the regional competition. I asked him if he would be disappointed if he didn't win. "I don't care if I win or lose. I just want to shoot my shots."
During that month, we took as many chances as possible to stress how proud we were of the decision Trey made just to go. How amazed we are at how God is working in him. How much we would support him with every step he took in conquering his fears.
The morning arrived. We walked into the gym with the other boys already warming up. He gave me that look I've seen a zillion times. I stripped his coat off him, elbowed him to the court, and said, "Go."
The cheering section known as our overachieving family took its place, nine years of not having any way of publicly supporting this boy at long last coming to fruition. Of course we were told by both Trey and the man in charge of the contest that we weren't allowed to make a sound. Yeah, thanks for that.
The boys warmed up for an eternity, and the contest began. In eerie silence, one by one, each boy took his shots. We could see Trey's nerves from across the gym.
He didn't win. And yet, that day was more a victory than anyone outside our circle could possibly have known. God is moving in our boy. I cannot imagine, but am looking so forward to watching, what He will unfold in Trey. As frustrating as it has been, I know that God can redeem every single experience Trey has missed out on for his fears. He'll take His time, of course.
But our hearts are singing for this young man who we love so very much.
He was brave.
I have heard You calling my name
I have heard the song of love that You sing
So I will let You draw me out beyond the shore
Into Your grace, Your grace
You make me brave, You make me brave
You call me out beyond the shore into the waves
You make me brave, You make me brave
No fear can hinder now the promises You made
He's a Harris, and true to form has not been willing to budge one bit on his mindset until he was good and ready.
Last summer, the flyer for basketball camp came home. I knew he'd refuse. I showed him the flyer, reminded him that his Daddy was running this camp, and that it wouldn't be a whole lot different from those high school open gyms and practice sessions he was so fond of attending. He turned it down cold. Think about it, I said.
Out of the blue, several days later he said he wanted to go. Never wavered or changed his mind. Had a blast and won the shooting competition on the last day.
This past fall, for the first time ever, he got visibly onstage with his class in front of a cafetorium full of peers and parents, and played the ukulele. As he returned to his seat after the performance, then all the way home and for the rest of the night, beamed at me.
Over Christmas, he finally manned up and did his job as a member of the children's program at church. Sat with his group onstage and helped sing a song during Nana's choir cantata.
In the span of six months, and so very unpredictably, came such a long way.
But then.
We got an email from Mr. Mullins, Trey's PE teacher. Trey won the basketball shooting contest for the school, and was invited to the county-wide competition. It would be Trey's choice as to whether he wanted to participate.
The dagger of non-mandatory.
We talked about it for days and days. No way to ease his mind by preparing him for exactly what would happen, because we'd never been there. But such an honor, and a way to actually use the skills that God has obviously given him.
He refused, of course. We continued to talk and pray over it, though, and a short time later he made up his mind to go. His gym teacher and principal were surprised and happy to hear the news, as were his Daddy and Mama and grandparents. Except that surprised and happy doesn't do it justice.
There was a month between the decision and the contest itself. I brought it up regularly just to gauge his feelings. He was uneasy. On the one hand, there would be lots of people there looking at him. On the other hand, a win meant going on to the regional competition. I asked him if he would be disappointed if he didn't win. "I don't care if I win or lose. I just want to shoot my shots."
During that month, we took as many chances as possible to stress how proud we were of the decision Trey made just to go. How amazed we are at how God is working in him. How much we would support him with every step he took in conquering his fears.
The morning arrived. We walked into the gym with the other boys already warming up. He gave me that look I've seen a zillion times. I stripped his coat off him, elbowed him to the court, and said, "Go."
The cheering section known as our overachieving family took its place, nine years of not having any way of publicly supporting this boy at long last coming to fruition. Of course we were told by both Trey and the man in charge of the contest that we weren't allowed to make a sound. Yeah, thanks for that.
The boys warmed up for an eternity, and the contest began. In eerie silence, one by one, each boy took his shots. We could see Trey's nerves from across the gym.
He didn't win. And yet, that day was more a victory than anyone outside our circle could possibly have known. God is moving in our boy. I cannot imagine, but am looking so forward to watching, what He will unfold in Trey. As frustrating as it has been, I know that God can redeem every single experience Trey has missed out on for his fears. He'll take His time, of course.
But our hearts are singing for this young man who we love so very much.
He was brave.
I have heard the song of love that You sing
So I will let You draw me out beyond the shore
Into Your grace, Your grace
You make me brave, You make me brave
You call me out beyond the shore into the waves
You make me brave, You make me brave
No fear can hinder now the promises You made
Comments