Why God called me to coach

I sat outside the locker room on the curb, waiting for a few parents to pick up some players. As I waited, I talked with one of my JV players. To be honest, this kid is kind of annoying and he puts in minimal effort on the practice field, but it was good to have a conversation with him away from the football environment. In fact, the conversation was heart=breaking.

He was waiting for his grandma to pick him up and he eventually (with some indirect questioning on my part) began to explain why he lives with his grandparents. I'll spare all the sick details, but his parents are those on the "just because you can have sex doesn't mean you're qualified to be a parent" list.

He eventually told me, "I don't think my mom even cares if I exist, she doesn't want me around." He had tears in his eyes and I about started crying myself. Even as I write it now, it still really hurts. Now I see why he doesn't have much motivation on the football field and why he's struggling so much in the classroom. Man, if I could just fix this kids' problems, he hurts so badly.

All I could do was try to reassure him that his mom has made bad choices, that it's not about him, his mom would've made these bad choices no matter who her son was. That the bad choices of his mom are no reflection on his value as a person. But you know what, I'm sure there's no way he believes what I just told him.