It's the final countdown

My mom challenged me with a thought from Acts the other day, and it’s one I’ve been meditating on the past few days, what I tell to my basketball girls all the time in shooting and in finishing a game: it eventually comes down to the follow through. I am terrified that it’s not in me. Yet, I am determined to grow and change . . . now. Take your time, but hurry up?
John Mark ditched out and missed out. I don’t want to do that. Even though God can and does redeem and reconcile, how much greater to experience the sustaining power and the fruits of perseverance. Goodness gracious. Still struggling with perseverance versus the tangles of perfectionism with procrastination.

From a sermon I listened to online the other day (not at home, at work, although internet was on at Swedish house yesterday!) “Life is an incremental series of becoming what you are in Christ. You can move. God is in you. You can move toward becoming the giver, the fountain that you are. People need you—no one can say to another, ‘I don’t need you.’” Where your joy will be deep and strong, and intense, and long.

Highlights working backwards from tonight--Sunday, 6 November:

Soup and conversation with Aren—dorm mom for upper Swedish boys

Processing with Sarah and relishing sunshine today

Our tacky fall display in our entryway

Nischaya loving to mimic my laugh along with “Bummer” and “Shucks!” once we established what they mean. Also the boys coming to sit by me during church. Aww.

Craziness of teaching while dropping and the students wanting more when we finished reading Number the Stars last week.

Enthusiastic hugs when I returned after being gone for only a couple of days.

Basketball tournament in Ooty—another hill station

Working to motivate and keep girls calm and strategize and support and teach etc. even as things turn unfair even when all seems stacked against you. For instance, one of our girls got a hug, a slap and a throw down which earned her a delayed whistle . . . and a call for a travel. This, in turn soon led to another  member of my team earning herself a technical before I could get her off the court. No, those are not the things I’m proud of, nor was it fun to run into a discipline issue the last day. Rather, I am ecstatic over how far we’ve come from the beginning to the end of the season. I wondered what I had gotten myself into a couple of months ago, but am so glad I jumped in headlong. These girls are great. Loved to see development, good defense, passes, keeping it together in our final game, cheering, determination, hustle, friendship with another team, joking, every girl on the team scoring in one of our games . . . these are the things that make me glad to be a basketball coach. Those girls will still talk with me and sometimes even respect me ; ) even when I look like a fool cheering and jumping up and down or trying to get the referee’s attention and being ignored because I’m white or just dressing like a dork.

We enjoyed good food and fun at the guest house (where I froze even with a hot water bottle—MN did not prepare me well, or I thought I was more tough than I am in reality. Further side note: being “tough” or “brave” inasmuch as it means bravado or independence is not really valued here, so my sticking my chin out and toughing it out at different points has not earned me valor points or compassion, just tsking.) and at Punjabi Daba restaurant. Those girls crack me up. 

A couple of situations led me to ponder truthfulness, example, standards, excellence and brokenness, as well. I remembered I like the going but “stuckness” of long car rides or road trips and the reflection that takes place. I enjoyed listening to music while watching the montage of images as we drove through cities and up and down mountain passes.

Long long bus ride back after waking to find the girls asleep and the bus stopped randomly a few different times. (one of these times, the helper excitedly points right in front of the bus window—“look, see the chickens!” yes, it is obvious that that truck directly in front of us has crammed too many birds into metal cages. Lovely sight to wake to at midnight, thanks.)  Finally “reaching” and begging the bus driver and helper to bring me all the way up to Swedish house and having to go back for my bag. Oops. Quarter ‘till 3 am rapping on the door to awaken my roommate in the wee hours of the morning. Sorry!

Football game last week in the mud and fog—ahh so good to play! Little things like assists and goals feel good.

Digging deeper in conversation with friends and coworkers here.
learning Paciencia, understanding before judgment, listening, quiet, stillness and grace.

So, what about me fits here? Well, not a whole lot, in all actuality, but somehow, I’ll still be leaving a part of me and taking a new part with me.

Now it’s game time—the final countdown. Mental toughness. Walk it out.