I absolutely love wrestling with my boys. I began wrestling with them when they were very little and this “wrestling” consisted of rolling around on the floor and rolling them over. We progressed to flipping them upside down, tossing them into the air and various other forms of roughhousing which they loved as much as I did. There were naysayers then, but we let them worry while we had fun. Now my older boys are 16, 14, and 12, and, as they are bigger, the wrestling is only that much more fun! It now involves a bit of a challenge as they have weight and strength. And my oldest now wants to test his strength and ability against me. It is great fun! He especially likes to have another brother be quarterback throwing to me in the end zone with him covering me. We mix it up real good, and nothing thrills him more than to keep me from catching a pass. And, I take great pleasure in catching most of the passes, shaking him off, knocking him down and, generally, as much as possible, dominating him! I don’t believe in gloating and think “celebration dances” are sissy, but I can make a point of letting him know his best efforts to beat me failed.
Watching this, some people like to say, “You know one day he’ll best you.” I have various ways I’d like to respond to these sage observers. One is to say in mock surprise, “Really? I’ve never considered the fact that I am getting older and further away from my prime while he is approaching his! Speak more, O Wise One!” Of course he will one day best me. That’s the way it is supposed to be. These folks seem to be suggesting that I will regret this turn of fortunes one day. Nothing could be further from the truth. Of course, when the day comes, and he regularly dominates me I’ll not rejoice in losing the game. But winning has not been my goal all along any way. I’ve been at work building men, and his beating me is just one more step in that process. Of course he’ll beat me one day, but I’m making sure in the meantime that when he does beat me he’ll know he accomplished something. I’m putting it on him now- of course in good fun with an eye to what he can handle- so that when he does become the champ he’ll be proud of an accomplishment. No, I’m not dreading the day he beats me. I’m watching for it. If I’m dreading anything, it’s the day when I can’t mix it up with him like this anymore. Of course that day will have its own blessings, but in the meantime I’ll be making the most of what we can do now, banging into one another, laughing, playing and mixing it up. And I think, in this way, I’ll be fortifying his soul.