An Approach That Works

“Looks like a girl but she’s a flame…”

Sometimes in tennis, you find an approach that works and stick with it. The rhythm, momentum and calls all go your way.  Like a conductor, you dictate the song on the court. Other times, you try many different schemes and approaches, only to fall short of your goals. The songs don’t sound in tune or on key; the shots don’t fall where they should fall. Win or lose, an approach that works is what keeps your head in the game. It’s what pushes you into the next match, expecting to improve or expecting to fail. Tomorrow is my birthday and another year to look back at all the approaches that worked and didn’t work. I’ve come to the conclusion this past year’s approach has most definitely been one that works. And, I expect to continue it.

I’ve learned so much in the twelve months since I turned the dreaded thirty. There are always a multitude of lessons to be learned in life, but this year in particular has been one of great discovery. I’ve discovered something about change: that change is scary, but necessary. I’ve learned how tremendous it is to have people on your side to help you make difficult decisions. The empowerment that comes with moving on and letting go is another discovery I have come to trust this year. I’ve learned that the people who are in your corner are the ones who will help you succeed.  I am grateful for those folks who have had my back. People come and go from our lives, but each one leaves a meaningful impact. I’ve recently discovered what love looks like, finally: it’s not imaginary, unreturned or selfish; love is a blessing that reaches part of your core. It’s the person who is perfect for you, and I have found him. Blessed I am indeed, for answered prayers. This year has also marked the beginning of a new approach for me. I did not once give up, no matter what it was I was trying to achieve. Because of that, I believe this has been one of the happiest years of my life. I’ve laughed a ton this year, and that fun approach is another one to apply in all areas of life.

In this world of catastrophe, I have both feet on the ground. My head may in the clouds, but I’m not backing down. I will be thankful when the sun comes out on May 17^th and I turn to the tennis court once again with an approach that works.

“She’s living in a world and it’s on fire…”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J91ti_MpdHA

Shock Absorbers

“Nothing’s so loud as hearing when we lie…”

Anti-vibration devices for tennis have been around since the 1960’s. Many tennis players believe the use of vibration dampeners, also known as shock absorbers, reduce vibrations and change the feel of contact between the ball and racquet. Some tennis players also believe placing a shock absorber on the strings allows for more flexibility and reduces the chance of tennis elbow injuries. Actual research suggests there is no link between tennis elbow and the absence of a shock absorber, but they sure do look cool on the racquet. Many come in different shapes, colors and sizes (I prefer the Wilson “W”). Homemade shock absorbers are also effective in creating that mental and psychological comfort most players seek. Think rubber bands only have a use in the office?

What about the human shock absorber? Last week, I witnessed a terrible car accident on the way home from work. I drove by, on the other side of the road, just as it was happening and saw people rushing out of their vehicles to comfort the people involved in the crash. One SUV was completely flipped over and the other car was so smashed in it had to have been totaled. Strangers were running to their aid, helping the victims absorb the shock and damage of the accident. The image I still can’t get out of my head was of the man, in shock, sobbing in the arms of a woman who rushed to his side. She was his shock absorber in that moment. Who is your shock absorber? Have you ever altered the sound of vibration or prevented the shock of impact for another?

“The air outside so soft is saying everything, everything.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqBnu-w8Bcs

Suffering

“By your plan, that’s just the way it is”

I suffered a tough break in the summer after fifth grade when I broke my wrist on the softball field. In a small way, I always felt that injury became a symbol of my suffering in years to come. The scar on my left wrist is a reminder—a reminder of my physical suffering and my suffering as a player who just wanted to swim and play ball with the rest of the All-Stars that summer. It’s an unpleasant reminder of how cruel and unfair life can be to those who don’t deserve to suffer. My experience in a cast, with a broken left wrist, paved the way for my ability to face trials. I reflect on that sometimes, especially on damp days when I feel a twinge of sharp pain in my wrist. I reflect, thinking how I was always so careful and meticulous in most things. Pitching a softball was no exception. It was an art I strove to perfect. Injuries and illnesses can damage our egos. They can change our perceptions and feelings. They can alter the way we approach certain areas in life. The outcomes from our sufferings bleed into our tomorrow.

With Lenten season in full swing, it seems appropriate to talk about penance, suffering and reflection. Penance---for those acts deserving a show of sorrow for sin. Suffering—for our personal trials and those who need healing. Reflection—on today, yesterday and always. When I broke my wrist, it was like my forty days of Lenten fasting. I was forced to be humble with a broken bone and reduced play time. Lent is a time for humbling ourselves. Who greater a model of humiliation than Jesus? Jesus, the suffering servant himself. There has been a lot of suffering, at home and abroad, the past few weeks. The turmoil in Crimea has needlessly caused many innocent and undeserving people to suffer. Last week, I found out a member of my church’s congregation passed away. And just today I learned that one of my dearest friends is suffering.

Sports are a great reminder that everything achievable is grievously surrendered. Every achievement ends.  Perhaps not in suffering or injury, but it ends. Even Derek Jeter’s days as a baseball player will come to a close. And as morbid and depressing as all this sounds, it’s a clear reminder to me about the meaning of Lent. Lent is about self-punishment, envisioning the end and reflecting on the joy as well as the suffering. It is so much akin to sports because sports are a circuit for all of these things too. With my healed left wrist clasped to my right, this Lenten season I am praying for the people who suffer.

“In the good times and bad, You are on your throne”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9xPzTSpbYmk

Heart Race

“This place is the beat of my heart”

Today is Valentine’s Day, and as procrastinators scramble to the nearest grocery or drug store to pick out something for their sweetheart, I can’t help but dwell on how our hearts are always moving. They are always sending us this way and that. Do we listen to our hearts more than we should, or not enough? I think I often forget that the heart is a muscle. It has to be trained and worked out too. Many people neglect this fact and go through the motions with seemingly a lot of love for someone, only to find out it wasn’t really love at all. Or, they don’t work hard enough at growing the heart muscle, and give up too soon on something that will make them happy.

I loved Valentine’s Day when I was young. Every year, I would pick out the same teddy bear Valentines. Who doesn’t love getting cute little cards with people’s first names on them? Who doesn’t love getting chocolate? As a kid, Valentine’s Day didn’t seem forced. I can argue today, as an adult, that is does seemed forced. It’s very forced, actually. Valentine’s Day loses some of the romance in all of the movement and hustle and bustle (how romantic is it to receive a Hallmark card and conversation hearts in the first place?). There is little element of surprise in Valentine’s Day. Why would I want to give someone a pre-packaged box of the same chocolates I saw my neighbor buying her husband…on the same exact day I gave one to my significant other? The expectation is that you are expected to participate in Valentine’s Day if you are in a relationship. How boring, I say. Love should never be that trivial or routine. It’s like saying love is on standby every other day of the year. It’s not like celebrating someone’s birth, where the day is etched in history and personal. No, love cannot be pigeonholed into one way or day.

Showing love and having heart are my go-to themes when writing because it’s such an important part of life. In fact, I named one of the characters in my fictional novel-in-progress Corwin because it means ‘friend of the heart’. Heart is a superb word for poetry because it rhymes with so many other words. It is also a valid word for use in prose because it conveys and describes so many character traits, emotions and feelings. Heart is heard throughout the sports world too. Have you known an athlete who is “all heart” or “always puts his/her heart into every game”? What does the phrase “heart of the order” mean in baseball, or “heart of the team” in team sports?

Heart, in sports, is not about doing what everyone else does in the same way everyone else does it. No. Heart it about racing, not simply running. Anyone can run. Do you have someone or something in your life that makes your heart race? Really race? You’re lucky if you know the feeling. It is unlike any other.

Heart is your center of spirit, the part of you that beats even when beaten, pumps even when pulled, and loves even when there is hate. The human heart, literally and figuratively, has authority. It has power to be used for anything at all. You cannot fake “having heart”, which is why I believe Valentine’s Day is merely a “holiday” to celebrate going through the motions of love.

“It’s sweet and it’s sad and it’s true how it doesn’t look bitter on you”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HiNV1rMNXE0

The Underdog

“For greater things have yet to come…”

It was just Saturday when I thought no man in professional tennis was capable of taking down the great Rafael Nadal. Then, along came Stanislas Wawrinka. A man who had never won a set against the Spaniard (in twelve tries) ended up defeating the champion in four sets. A Swiss player took this year’s Australian Open men’s final, and it wasn’t Roger Federer. Wawrinka won the match with his strong serve and pestering forehand. It was an upset in a Grand Slam littered with upsets on both the men’s and women’s draw.   

The possibility of an upset win makes sport intriguing. It provides an element of the impossible that serves to cultivate a buzz. This excitement never seems to get old. We are thrill seekers, yes. But more than that, we are fans who pull for the David to defeat the Goliath. How many times have we witnessed a bracket buster during March Madness only to find ourselves jumping on said underdog’s bandwagon? How sweet is it to see that obscure country earn a gold medal in the Olympic Games by defeating one of the world powers? Is it not hard to get caught up in the thrill of a come-from-behind win, especially one that is unexpected and seemingly out of reach?

It’s true of most things in life. There are some among us who shop at the mom and pop store and shun the corporate giants. We may buy the Grammy winning songs on itunes, but we purchase the entire underground punk record in the store the day it is released. We’re always looking for the next big thing, the next breakout brand or artist or athlete. But what we really like is discovering them first, for ourselves. Most of us like to be on the verge of something yet to come. The greater things that are to come are what keep us going.

This holds true for me too. I cheer for three of possibly the most loved/hated teams in America: the Yankees, Cowboys and Ohio State Buckeyes. They dominate their sports in terms of power, prestige and perceived talent. The popularity of these organizations has little to do with why I became a fan. I would like to think that the more each of these teams becomes an underdog (if ever any of them do), the more I would be excited to root for them. There is definitely something to be said about the Goliaths who can overtake anybody. They’re predictably great. But, there is still plenty to be done…and that is where the hope of possibility lies. I think in terms of what lies ahead for me and know there are still things to be done. Greater things.

“…and greater things are still be done in this city.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d61LamkXfwk

The Eager Listener

“…and in my heart I find a need for Him to be my savior”

Have you ever been so focused on seeking an answer that you miss the most important words spoken by another person? Are you an eager listener? What do you do when the answer is unexpected, unsatisfactory, or worst of all, completely disregarded?

I admit to being a selective listener, choosing the words I want to hear and tuning out the others. I think my listening skills have improved over the years. As children, we certainly do not listen with purpose. We ask for things we do not need and cannot have.  I was no exception as a child. During the holiday season, I always asked for the gifts I wanted by blatantly spelling it out to my parents. As most children do during Christmas time, I would go so far as writing a list and circling pictures of toys in the catalogs kept in our home. I received many of the gifts on my circled and scribbled-down wish lists. Other requests were neglected, either due to expense or necessity. When I failed to receive these gifts, I would become almost angry. I would kneel down at night and ask God to bring these treasures into my life. I promised to be good the rest of the year. My naïve faith and innocence couldn’t bring about answers. I failed to listen to God’s reasons because my mind was only focused on my reasons. Little did I know back then that learning to live without the things we desire is one of the toughest lessons in life. Our reasons are not always in line with God’s reasons.

A few years ago, I prayed every night about one particular person. I was so sure God should have been listening to me. God wasn’t listening to me, and I didn’t understand. As the Aaron Shust song goes, “I am not skilled to understand”. I was looking for the answer I wanted, instead of listening to God. He had His reasons. Though I could not understand the reasons, I knew they were coming from God. Still, I was angry. I was angry with God. This anger persisted until it channeled into fear and hurt. I cried and pouted inside, just as I had when I didn’t un-wrap my preferred Christmas present as a kid. I became so consumed with hearing my answer that I missed out on what God was trying to tell me. God has his reasons, I am convinced.

Why don’t we listen? We miss a lot of the good stuff when we don't listen. It's good to be an eager listener, but not the type of eager that is impatient and stubborn. There is a distinction between eager listening and listening with an eager ear. 

Perhaps we don’t listen to God because we do not believe. In Luke’s gospel, Jesus spoke to the council before his death, “If I tell you, you will not believe, and if I question you, you will not answer”.  We do not listen. It’s not that God isn’t providing answers, or even that he does not hear. He hears everything. He will never ignore us. We just do not listen. More often than not, we lack the patience and understanding to listen. This happens in life, as much as in prayer.

An eager listener is hopeful and believing. The eager listener is just eager for answers.

Today, I still seek God’s help in answering prayers. I am more eager than ever for God’s fulfilling promise. He is the light, the truth and the way. I wait eagerly for His guidance in my life. I continually seek His way, though I stumble, fumble and crumble apart along the path. Just maybe that unexpected answer will arrive. In time, God does provide. The reason I know this is because I have seen his results. I can testify to His truth. I am a witness to his answers. God answered my prayers to become a college tennis player. He answered my prayers to save my mother from breast cancer. His answer to my prayer for a healing heart was completed in time. None of these prayers were as I planned them. My plan would have included my answers, and I am not convinced those answers would have been as wonderful. And so, I eagerly wait on Him again. I am listening for that voice, the one I seek every morning.

“...my strength, my solace from the spring”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gt0WluTpFTg

Life with Compassion

 

“There’s got to be so much more to life than this”

We all want something more in life. I don’t care who you are, there is something out there you desire. Life is never just “good enough” for any of us. We naturally crave all of life’s riches and hope for something better. Do we ever think of other people? Those who crave what we have, those who might never know the riches of the life we take for granted?

I was recently playing tennis with a friend who had improved a lot since the last time we played.  I complimented him on the skills he now sharpened and noted how terrific a player he was becoming. He told me he knew he wasn’t good enough for me and he wanted to be better. He wanted to get into better shape, build muscle and play every day he could. I admired his will to improve but it left me thinking about my own life. I often worry I will never be good enough or have enough of what I desire. I feel there is something missing, and if I could only find that something, my entire life would be complete. Before I moved to Texas, I couldn’t wait to find a tennis partner and play tennis all year round. I become something “more” when I am on the tennis court. It’s a feeling I have never experienced at any other point in my life. I’ve been successful in school, at work, in activities, in writing…and yet, I never feel it is enough. I want something more. But it’s not of the material kind; it’s more of an emotional gasping. I feel a greater purpose awaits and I am not certain how to tackle those feelings. I just know they exist and I must discover their meaning. I must capture that same feeling I get when there is nothing but my racquet, a tennis ball and a net.

This October I decided to sponsor a child through Compassion International. I found out about Compassion while attending a Newsboys concert at a Baptist Church in Austin. The organization has a proven track record and is a legitimate charity. The monthly investment seemed minimal compared to the world of difference I could make in one child’s life. The little girl I sponsor is from Ecuador and her name is Belinda. Our names are so similar that I couldn’t pass on her. I am sure Belinda wishes for more out of her life. If I can provide her with just one day of wishes, I hope to do so.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bIQf5dD7Y9k

“I want my life to count every breath…I want to live with abandon”