The Polo Match

“And on Sunday afternoon, we’ll attend a polo match at the Sarasota polo club.” My sister-in-law was laying out the plans for our short visit to Florida over the Easter weekend.

A polo match was not something I expected. In my 50-plus years, I had never attended a polo competition, partly because I’d never been invited to one, but also because I never pursued it.

The closest I’d ever come to polo was meeting the man who was considered the greatest polo player of all time, Cecil Smith. It was in the mid-90’s and Smith, a Texas native, was being inducted into the San Antonio Sports Hall of Fame. After the ceremony, I asked him if he knew my father. He replied, “I was there the day he took his fall.” Stunned, I began to ask him more questions, but he quickly changed the subject.

I wondered if Smith was also affected by that day.

A polo match changed my life forever, when my father, a doctor and competitive polo player on weekends, suffered a fatal heart attack while participating in a match at the Brackenridge Polo Fields in San Antonio. He was only 39 years old. My mother, and half-sister, who watched their beloved husband and dad die, struggled the rest of their lives. I was born two months later to a fatherless childhood.

Would I be emotional at this polo match? Would it be a depressing reminder of life without a dad? Would it cause me to recall the void I’ve felt without my half-sister, who later told me she couldn’t share memories of our father with me? Would I be teary as the mallet struck the ball, knowing my mother was never the same after my dad collapsed on his polo pony?

These questions swimming in my brain did not prevent me from attending. I went, knowing, “I can do all things through him who gives me strength” (Philippians 4:13).

I also prayed in advance that God would show me something while there.

When we arrived, surprisingly, there was no wave of emotion. As the polo players paraded around on their horses, I didn’t have a feeling of melancholy. Once the match began, instead of recalling the past, I marveled at the athleticism of the players and horses, and realized what an intense sport polo is. I actually got into the competition, a much higher scoring match than reflected on my father’s polo trophies. Perhaps the game has changed to make it more interesting, I wondered.

Then I realized, this is evidence I am healed!

None of the concerns I had prior to the polo match materialized. I was a spectator like everyone else, and an example of how God delivers his children from heartache.

“The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles. The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:17-18).

Are you crushed in spirit due to a past situation? What place do you fear you cannot return to? What relationship are you avoiding because it is a reminder of pain you have lived with all of your life?

Open up your heart to God. Ask him to heal the wound. It is only with Christ’s strength you can go back and look at what happened in his light, and from his perspective.

That’s what I did. There was a time when I was bitter about not having a father all my life. Sad that my mother never recovered emotionally from the fatal polo match. Not understanding my sister’s decision to remain estranged. But I eventually realized those tragic circumstances were used by God to shape me, and to draw me closer to him, because he eventually wanted to lead me into a ministry that helps other women overcome their past trials.

God is a deliverer. He is a healer. In our weakness, he is strong. If there is a piece of your past you are avoiding, trust him when he takes you back, because it is only by returning that you will know how far you’ve come. (LBW)