Bump, Set, Spike

One time I was asked as a parent to take my turn as a line judge for my daughter’s very heated volleyball game.  Their team had played so well and not scored, and of course the shot of the day came on my shift, and I happened to miss it because I was watching the game….not the line.  It was a new perspective for me to call the shots. I realized this morning it was a struggle that would make a repeat performance in my life in a more important way, although no where near as humiliating as having a gym full of people stare at you with the fire of a thousand suns, and a ref stop the game to scold the coach for bad parent line-judges.

“Are you working?” My beautiful daughter asked, hoping to ask a question as I stared into the abyss of pixels, feeling useless.  I was actually playing solitaire.  The voice that whispers “you aren’t good enough, you don’t have anything new to say” was playing spiritual volleyball in my head again.  But what struck me about this question was that  she said “working“.  I had been sitting my toosh down to write for a couple of hours in the morning a couple of times a week for the past year, and calling myself a writer.  It was an approach that many an inspirational speaker had offered; to act yourself into being; fake it till you make it; speak it over yourself.  I am a writer,  I write. This is what God put in my heart, and God doesn’t plant seeds He doesn’t expect to grow.  I had said that once to my sister-in-law when she held all three of my kids in her lap at once, loving on them, smiling and said “I want this! I want a family.” I told her it will come.  He doesn’t give you a dream without a reason to use it, especially for His glory.

So today, even though the blue team says “you don’t have anything to say” and spikes it over to the red team who says “you aren’t even getting paid”, I am the ref, not just the line judge.  I call the shots.  OUT!!

After listening to the first reading today, James 4:13-17, where James is reminding us not to put things off, we are but a puff of smoke, a vapor, and tomorrow isn’t promised to us, so quit putting off our lives playing solitaire, I decided to sit my toosh back down and get to it.  Bump, set, spike.

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