A bright red suit and an ACE card
You know those people you sometimes meet who have a glimmer in their eye? I met one of those people tonight at an alumni event for my alma mater. I was just about to leave the event, but we crossed paths and began to talk. Wearing a full-length, bright red suit (kind of like Santa, but business Santa), I knew this man had a story to tell.
We became what seemed like instant friends and he shared with me that he graduated in 1983. The year 1983 is a big year for me because it’s also the year my mentor graduated. The year 2015 is another big year for me. It’s the year he passed away.
“Did you know Coach Rucks?” I asked, eyes wide. The man smiled and said, “Oh, yes. Yes I did.” “Did you play football with him?” I asked. “I actually played basketball with him,” he replied. “Most people don’t realize he played basketball, too. He played for a few years and then decided to focus solely on football.” “Wow! He never told me that,” I replied. “He was like a dad to me.”
In 2015 on a sunny day in March, my mentor passed away from a sudden heart attack in his car. He coached football at the school for years and was beloved by many. Shocked, our community came together to grieve and celebrate his life.
“Was he the same in college as he was out of college?” I asked my new friend. “Why yes, yes he was,” he replied, looking at me with the glimmer in his eye. I quickly recounted stories of Coach, wise words he had shared, and life lessons he had taught me. And although I think of Coach nearly every day, I don’t always intentionally practice what he taught me. Coach used to write one note to someone on his mind every single day. It’s how he would start his day. He used to reward his players with “ACE” cards when they showed Attitude, Character and Enthusiasm. Although he was constantly busy coaching and advising students, he made you feel like the only person on his mind when you would interrupt him during the middle of his busy day.
I think with our world so busy, we forget — at least I forget — why I do the things I do. Do my actions really align with my values? Do I speak the words I truly want to speak? Am I living out my life intentionally? Or do I just go on through another day checking off my never ending to do list of tasks? How do I so easily forget what truly matters?
The man in the full-length, bright red suit jolted me back. He reminded me of someone who lived so well. Not perfectly, but well. Intentionally. Full of love and grace. He noticed people. Encouraged them and took time for them. He stuck to his principles. He let other people know who he was and where he stood. Kind of like a modern-day Jesus, Coach loved people beautifully.
Coach, although I do not have your physical presence (and I desperately long for a big bear hug), I am so grateful for these moments when it feels you are with me. I love how God sends glimmer-eyed men in bright red suits to gently remind me of His plans and purposes for my life. I love how God reminded me of you tonight. Thank you for the model you are to me. I pray that I can be a model one day to those I lead and love. Thank you for calling me back to what’s truly important, to what truly matters. It’s all about people. It always is and always was. I’m sorry I so easily forget. God, help me remember. Keep this stirring in my spirit. Help me live like Jesus and Coach did. And God, thank you for creating Coach — one of the most intentional, kind, thoughtful and giving people I’ve ever known. Thank you for placing him in my life when you did and thank you for the privilege it was to know him on this earth.
Joyfully,
Lauren
