I’m watching my oldest at track and field practice. She’s her own girl, running and jumping (something I’ve never done on a team), and I’m amazed at how different we are.
She gets in the backseat of the car and rests her chin in her hands. As she gazes out the window, she says, “I didn’t finish first, but I didn’t finish last.” She’s talking about her mile time. I’m nodding, trying to remember the kinds of helpful questions to ask a runner. In the silence, she speaks again and tells me this:
“I don’t want to be the best, Mom.”
“When you’re the best, you don’t get to have any goals.”
She raises her eyebrows and smiles. She’s talking about how next time, she’ll add a foot to her long jump and cut 15 seconds off her mile time.
I remember that my neighbor and I prayed that morning that our daughters would love track and field even if they weren’t the best.
I love answers to prayer.
Have you struggled with not being the best?