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It was the last regular season basketball game of the school year. As I joined my junior varsity girls basketball team on the court, I knew we were facing the toughest team in our high school league. Their size and skills were intimidating. We didn't have the height or the experience. Our goal was simple: Try not to get killed!

But throughout the first quarter, we answered their baskets. The score was close.

In the second quarter we tied the score several times. After the half, the lead kept changing hands. We had come into the game as underdogs, but now we had a good chance of beating the best team.

	IT WAS THE ONLY THING SHE SAID TO ME THAT NIGHT, BUT IT WAS MORE THAN ENOUGH.

The clock wound down to 19 seconds; we were behind by only one point. A basket would decide the game. Our opponents brought the ball inbounds.

I moved to the half court line. As my opponent dribbled closer, a voice in my head urged me to steal the ball. I reached out with my right hand and lunged. Suddenly, the game-winning ball was in my hands.

I dribbled to our basket and lifted the ball as high as I could stretch. The ball bounced off the backboard and onto the rim. I held my breath.

It circled once, twice, a third time—and fell … right off the front of the rim and into the waiting hands of the girl I had stolen it from moments before.

Then the buzzer sounded. We had lost by one point. I blew it! When I saw my teammates, I began to cry. I had let them down. I was so ashamed I didn't want to look at my coach. She was willing to work with a 14-year-old, skinny girl with glasses because she said she saw something special in me. I felt anything but special now.

Six healing words
I ran straight to the restroom to avoid everyone. I was a loser! Everyone in the gym witnessed that fact.

After several minutes, I dried my tears, took a deep breath, and walked out into the hallway. At the same moment, the double doors from the gym opened and out stepped my coach.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. They were the only two words I could get out.

My coach hugged me and replied quietly, "I wouldn't trade you for anyone."

The words took a moment to sink in. Then it hit me. If Magic Johnson asks to play on her team, she'll turn him down—for me! With six words, my coach gave me unconditional love. It was the only thing she said to me that night, but it was more than enough.

Thankfully, unconditional love is offered to us by God himself—a love that says over and over, "I wouldn't trade you for anyone."

A Christian Reader original article.

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