Under the Boards

“If you don’t behave,” my Dad said to me sternly but half-jokingly, “We are going to cut your hair short, dress you like a boy, and have you come build houses for me. We’ll call you Lee.”

“Really?” I answered, thinking that would be great fun.

I was eight years old. I wouldn’t have a sibling until I was eleven, so my parents each imparted to me what skills they had, regardless of traditional gender roles. Mom taught me to sew; Dad taught me to cut wood with an electric saw. Mom taught me to be a lady; Dad taught me to think like a business man.

When I found out my first baby was going to be a girl, I decided she was not going to be a girly-girl. The woman who sold me a gallon of blue paint looked at my third-trimester tummy and knowingly commented, “You’re having a boy?”

“No, a girl. I like blue,” I said, defiantly.

Almost thirteen years later, I sat today watching my lovely young lady at the basketball awards party. She is two inches taller than me and absolutely beautiful. She carries herself with confidence. She is smart and athletic and knows it; yet she is too friendly for anyone to think she is conceited.

The coach introduced his award for Most Improved. “This player never played basketball before, and learned it fast. She took a beating under the boards, especially defending against those Southampton girls…” I knew he was going to say Audrey Miller.

I thought back to those big game moments that might have made a mother tremble with worry, or anger, or both; when she fought as if for her life under the basket to get the ball back to whoever on her team could get it down to the other end; when she was elbowed, scratched, and knocked to the ground, hard; and she retrieved that ball, held onto it as long as necessary, and expertly passed it off.

I was never worried because I knew she could take it; and I was proud of her for taking it; and I knew that every time she did this she would become stronger, both as a player and as a person.

I think of all the times people have told me that God gives us trials to make us stronger, and only gives us what He knows we can handle. Suddenly I realize that I have understood this along; that this is how I have been raising my kids because instinctively I knew this to be true.

James 1:2-4 (NAB) says: “Consider it all joy, my brothers, when you encounter various trials, for you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. And let perseverance be perfect, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”

Let us all take those beatings under the boards with strength and grace. The ball is in our court.

Picture above is of the girls' basketball team captains: Audrey is the first on the left.

Passion: Softball Fever

St Cecelia

I feel like I must be boring everyone now because all I can think about is softball. Not only do we play it every day. Everywhere we go we bump into people from one of the teams: at the beach, Wal-mart, King Kullen. I often forget which team they are from. We just call them softball people.

When friends and family call and ask me what is new, my mind is a blank. Life seems to be just one continuous softball game, abbreviated by meals, sleeping, and swimming. When I get on the computer, the first thing I do is my daily updates for the team website, before any writing or personal emailing.

I think it is important for people to be passionate about something. All my life I have been drawn to people who threw their energy into one particular cause or activity, even if it was something I was not interested in. One of my friends in college was a horsewoman. I am not at all interested in horses, but my first conversation with her (on the plane to Budapest, where I spent a semester) she spoke with such brilliance in her eyes about her love of horseback riding. We became fierce friends from then on.

As an adult I am naturally drawn to people with similar interests, and my closest friends tend to be dedicated to the pro-life cause or writing. When you spend a great deal of time with people watching softball games or cross-country meets, you develop a comraderie of sorts. In softball, you are all dedicated to the success of your children in the sport. In running, many parents simply want to keep their children in good physical condition, and the goal is always simply to “do your best”.

I want my children to be well-rounded; so we participate in a great variety of activities, but all is scheduled around their first love. Meals are scheduled at 9, 12, and 4, so we can be well-nourished before the evening’s practice(s) or game(s). All friends are on notice that we are only available between 10 and 3. These summer nights they are permitted to go to bed late and sleep late, so they can be well-rested for the next day of activity.

Made in God’s image, we are called to build and maintain strength of mind, body, and spirit. This is just one way of going about it.

Sirach
Chapter 17
1
The LORD from the earth created man, and in his own image he made him.
2
Limited days of life he gives him and makes him return to earth again.
3
He endows man with a strength of his own, and with power over all things else on earth.
4
He puts the fear of him in all flesh, and gives him rule over beasts and birds.
5
He forms men's tongues and eyes and ears, and imparts to them an understanding heart.
6
With wisdom and knowledge he fills them; good and evil he shows them.
7
He looks with favor upon their hearts, and shows them his glorious works,
8
That they may describe the wonders of his deeds and praise his holy name.
9
He has set before them knowledge, a law of life as their inheritance;

Steel the Moment

“Steel the Moment”: a phrase, coined by me, to describe:
1. The act of capturing a serene moment for later use;
2. The act of calling upon said memory when strength is needed.

As I came out of the pool today, I heard a rustling in the woods. I watched as the white tails of two deer disappeared further into the trees. One remained, staring at me without flinching. I kept still, maintaining eye contact, until he lost interest and turned to join his family.

Last week was a real challenge. With half-days of school, it seemed the children had just left when all-of-a-sudden they were back again. We did lots of talking about the kids and teachers. We made decisions about what extra-curricular activities we would participate in. We packed in as much fun as we could in the latter half of the day. It was exhausting.

Today was the first full day back to school, and my to-do list was long. Yet I was able to steal a few minutes to do a few laps in the pool, and feel all the better for it. As I walked back to the house after my interaction with the deer, I thought to myself, “Steel this moment.”

Last spring, when we were in the midst of baseball/softball season, my Nanna wrote me, asking if I could please telephone her when I could “steel a moment”. That typo was the serendipitous event that led to my coining of the phrase with a different meaning. I thought to myself, “Next time I feel frazzled I need to STEEL the moment.”

The coming weeks will be packed full of activity: meetings, sports, homework, and adjustment to new classes. It is imperative not only that we steal a few moments for ourselves, but that as we discover a moment of serenity we need to capture, freeze-frame, or “steel” that scene into our memory. In the near future when I am caught up in the non-stop running-around of autumn, I can call upon my reserve of serene moments and claim them for the strengthening I need at that point in time.

“But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.’ I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me.”
2 Corinthians 12:9

“Fall – Whitetail Deer”, by Michael Sieve