I had spent nigh-on a year building up my reputation as a goalie playing on the recess field at a school about 15 minutes from my house. My sister and I joined the other kids for recess, P.E., and music. Finally, after many valiant efforts, conceded goals, brilliant blocks, and just getting plain lucky, I was the goated goalie.

At recess, a K-2 kid came up to me. He had blonde hair and was quite small compared to me. I remembered him from soccer camp and remembered the other kids pronouncing him “a pain,” but I didn’t recollect his name.

“Can I step in?” he asked me.

He didn’t have the nicest manner in the world, but I’d been goalie almost every time all year, and so I supposed quite logically that I might as well let someone else give it a go. After all, I would not have been able to get my reputation as goalie had someone not yielded the goal to me first.

I was about to nod when one of my defenders interjected swiftly.

“No,” he shook his head firmly. “We need Kenni, not you.”

I blushed, both because of the praise and the sharp denial. It’s no excuse and never will be one, but I was younger and was confused as to what was socially acceptable and the character of some of the other kids as I didn’t actually see them the whole day.

About five minutes after the poor kid had walked away, me guilty of the heinous crime of saying absolutely nothing (nothing intelligible, that is), many of my teammates came up to me and made me promise to what I realize now was probably the most insignificant thing in the world:

“Kenni, you have to promise us never to step out of the goal.”

As I look at the words now, my mind is filled with cocked eyebrows. I have to? And what difference did it make if I let a poor K-2 kid in the goal for one day? Sure, this was the end-of-the-year tournament, but after the first two days, who actually knew how many goals either side had scored?

But I, not thinking about any of these things and only thinking, “They think I’m good!” said, “S-sure.”

And that came back to bite me.

Let me introduce you to our new setting! Tall gymnasium, slick floor, P.E. class, stage on one end, wall on the other. Many kids, mixed from 5th to 8th grade. My sister included. Two options for what to do: soccer or kickball? Majority ruled, and the verdict was soccer. I had been, of course, an avid voter, and I immediately found my team already forming and marched to the goal.

It was dim in the gym, but that didn’t stop me from seeing the ball and blocking out. My opponents let out groans and good-natured quips, and my teammates flashed me smiles and thumbs-ups. The dimness didn’t stop me from seeing my sister standing to my right either.

“Hey,” she said tentatively.

“Hey,” I replied, looking between her and the players.

“Can I step in?”

WHAM! Had someone just hit me in the stomach? I stumbled, I grappled, I stammered, I hoped, I lunged for the fleeting words. Young Me, confused and bewildered, torn between her foolish promise and loyalty to her sister, stammered a no.

“Please!” Christena pleaded. “I didn’t want soccer. The least you can do is let me in the goal.”

“Christena, I… No,” I floundered, my mouth dry. “I, I made a promise. I can’t…”

Christena took my word as law and went over to ask for a position on the other team, but it was an issue between us for a long time afterwards. We debated long and hard about me having to keep my promise. After all, hadn’t Jesus said, “Let your yes be yes and your no be no”? But my conscience goaded me afterwards that I shouldn’t have made the promise in the first place!

They say, “When in doubt, don’t.” I also learned that you have to think over the consequences of a promise and then not let anyone by any means pressure you into making a bad promise, especially when it could seriously affect your relationship with God and others. Because, once you make a promise, you’re in a lose-lose if what happened to me happens to you. I couldn’t have broken my promise without earning the distrust of my teammates; I couldn’t have kept my promise without tearing my sister to emotional shreds. I could’ve gotten out of it, and I didn’t.

Please, do me and you a favor and be wiser than I was!