There ain't no good time

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Friday, I gave an invocation to open the Area I Sectionals high school rassling tournament.

Saturday, right after lunch I found myself having to pray, aloud, again.

The Friday part I enjoyed. Gave some praise, gave thanks, told God I appreciated Him bringing our visitors to town, asked Him to get 'em home safe and so forth.

Typical invocation. People kept talking. I was on the PA system so everyone could hear me.

Saturday.

I was on the edge of a mat at the far end of the gym. My voice boomed. Everyone heard me. That gym has never been that quiet with so many people in it.

And I didn't like it. I didn't like having to give that prayer Saturday afternoon. I did not like the quiet.

I'da have given much to NOT have given that prayer.

But I tell you this too, the Saturday morning was far more important in my view than the one Friday.

Had someone showed up to tell me not pray Friday, I would have still done it. If someone in law enforcement had tried to stop me, I would have complied. No resistance.

Saturday. Nope. If they tried to arrest me, it would not have been pleasant. I rather think the entire gym would have risen up in support as well.

Yassee, there just ain't no good time for what I did Saturday after lunch.

I came back from lunch. A wrestler was in a corner room in a corner of that room. A coach was with him, arm on his shoulder. I shrugged it off. Figured he got hurt horsing around after lunch and before the afternoon matches started.

Continued business as usual. Cleared the mats, grabbed a broom and started sweeping the mats down.

Coach Phillip Lyons gets on the PA. He made an announcement.

The gym was quiet and I mean quiet. I was amazed as I leaned on broom, head down.

After what was a suitable interval, I broke the silence. I had me another talk with God, this time on behalf of that young man who I'd seen a few minutes earlier in the corner of the gym.

The young man I'd see in the corner? His momma died a a short while before. Here he was a wrestling tournament miles and counties away from home and his mother died.

So yeah, I prayed. For him, for his family, for his community. Yeah, my voice broke too.

Yeah. I prayed at a school function.

And now, I pray I never have to do it like that again. But if the need comes, I will.

Sometimes, we need prayer in school. We sure did on Saturday morning.