Dodgeball

I've never cared much for the game growing up, but I can think of the many elementary school P.E classes spent playing the game that would without a doubt consist of someone unexpectantly getting slammed in the face with the ball. Just about every child in America has played the game at one point in their life and perhaps this silly pointless game is played throughout our lives. I'm immediately reminded of the feeling of being blindsided by a heavy object slamming into my body. As a young awkward girl with chicken legs, my only motivation throughout the game was to get through the entire game without falling on my face, being pushed down, and making sure that a ball wasn't flying at me at every direction. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough eyes or spatial sense to keep these things from happening. Inevitably I found myself beaten up by the game dodgeball. This past month, I've been repeatedly pounded, beaten, and blindsided by a ball called life. This is also inevitable. I still have chicken legs and I'm probably just as awkward- but in cute quirky way I'd like to think- and no matter how many skills I develop, the balls just keep coming.

Despite the years of wisdom that will come, this game will be played until the end. I supppose I should find the joy and excitement in the surprise slam into the face. Although the purpose is to "dodge" the ball, part of the fun is the unexpectedness. Well, maybe from those who are doing the kicking. As I go to class, work, go out with friends, develop friendships and live my life, I see the sneaky people just waiting until you walk by with your back to them so they can kick a ball as hard as they can towards my head. I can get angry and cry like the many times I'm sure I cried when hit or maybe I can take the hit with grace. If anything, I hunger grace. The type of grace that I carry with me when shit hits the fan. Right now there many sneaky ball kicking meanies just waiting for the chance, the chance to get me down. I'm choosing to take the hit with grace. Playing defensively, giving up, or joining isn't an option any longer. My goals, ideas, theology, and priorities have changed many times and I know they will continue to change, but one thing that has stayed consistent in my life is the fact that I will always want to be a woman of grace. I carry a great deal of grace, but this is something I want to continue to learn and embrace. The people that I admire the most carry an unbelievable amount of poise and grace. When we carry grace, we carry a confidence that's contagious.

Regardless of how many things are going in my life, the game must go on. Life doesn't stop to give you a break. No time outs this time. My thoughts are everywhere but here in the present and I need to be here right now because this is where I can thrive. I have experienced change in huge ways over the past couple years and I'm grateful and happy for this change, but I forgot a very important piece. I forgot about the part where I take the time to bring Katie up to date about all this change. I know I've changed and for that I'm also thankful. I'm not remorseful or saddened by this change. I've become an ambitious and loving woman. I have a lot to figure out in the near future and even now, but I also need to enjoy the woman I have come to know now. I don't ever seek to be the allstar playa, but I am not content with the consolation prize any longer. I have become so wrapped up in this change and an end result, I forgot about the things I desire. I'm in complete awe of how God has found ways to send a ball straight at me. I was knocked flat on my face and now that I'm on my feet, I just want to smile at how hard I had to be hit to see my own desires. I have stepped back so that others can take their turn and this could be out of fear or many other things. I guess the reason doesn't really matter, but I'm finally ready to breathe life into myself.

These chicken legs are ready for the next hit.