What is Courage?

 Once upon a time I was a basketball player. Since I'm attempting to be completely honest here, it got to a point where I absolutely did not enjoy playing and began to hate it. My heart wasn't in it, but I thought I needed to continue with the sport to please other people. It was too much for me, so I finally quit, thinking this would make life ten times better. I struggled with questions such as: Am I a weak person for giving up? Am I not the athlete I thought I was? Are my parents not as proud of me? Looking back, I realize how silly these questions are and wish I hadn't wasted my time with them.

Six months ago I began to play tennis. It was amazing to me how fast I grew to love it, and as it got closer to summer, I decided that I really wanted to be a part of the girl's tennis team this coming year. Throughout June and July I nearly killed myself conditioning in the heat and spent countless hours playing. I knew that it was sure to be difficult, especially considering the number of talented freshman going out for the team, but I tried my best to remain optimistic. 

My dad is a huge fan of cowboy movies, particularly those starring John Wayne. As tryouts rolled around, he sent me one of his favorite quotes: "Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway." Cheesy, right? But it gets the point across nonetheless. I'd be lying if I didn't tell you I was scared to death while driving to the tennis courts that beautiful morning; however, I knew I wanted it more than I've ever wanted anything. Because I tried my hardest over that three day period, I don't have any regrets over how I played, just regrets about how it turned out. The five available spots on the team went to a Finnish foreign exchange student and four of the freshmen girls, and once again, I'd be lying to say I wasn't disappointed. 

 This experience has taken quite a bit of faith in Heavenly Father's plan for me. Part of me asks, "Why couldn't He have let me have this one little thing?" When this crosses my mind, I have to tell myself to take a step back and look at the big picture. I glanced at a quote hanging on my wall after I returned home from the final day of tryouts, and to me, this gives another perfect definition of courage: "Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'" (Mary Anne Radmacher) 

 And so I will try again tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that, until next year when I have the opportunity to try and fulfill my dream once again. For courage is often the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow." 

I'm not perfect, just perfectly happy being me.

Sometimes, I'll admit, I ask really dumb questions and then laugh over what comes out of my mouth.

Sometimes I find myself wishing I didn't tower over everyone else; however, most of the time I enjoy my five-foot-ten height.

Sometimes I feel rather awkward, yet have to remind myself that everyone's awkward in their own way. 

Sometimes I have to stop myself from comparing my talents to others' and remember that we're all unique. 

Sometimes I think the world is too big of a place to have lived in this little old town for all my life, but then I think of how good it's been to me. 

Sometimes I want the chance to go back and redo my mistakes, but I realize that they're what has made me who I am. 

God is in the Details

Tonight as I sat on the porch steps, the sky came alive with bright streaks of light repeatedly swooping down on the mountainside. The crackling bolts of lighting split the air and left me completely in awe of their power. This, to me, is evidence that God exists.

Last Friday I lay reading in the grass and couldn't help but notice the sky up above. The setting sun illuminated the clouds, making them appear a delicate shade of pink. A waxing crescent moon hung over them in the pale blue sky. Listening to the wind dance through the trees, I couldn't imagine a more perfect summer's night. This, to me, is evidence of a God that cares.

Last week I had the opportunity to go canoeing on Legacy Lake with my best friend. We neared the middle of the lake and were given the cue to begin two minutes of silence. I looked all around me, noticing everything from the pines reaching up towards the sky to the calm breeze blowing ripples across the water. Ducks quacked to their young as we drifted near. I spent those two minutes marveling at the beautiful world surrounding me. This, to me, is evidence that God loves us.

This very moment the sound of raindrops outside my window brings with it the cool night air. The world smells clean and fresh and new. I can feel my heart beating and honestly can't believe what a wonderful thing it is to be alive. Those who argue that the existence of a higher being is impossible need only look around them to be proved wrong. Doesn't it bring a smile to your face to know that God is in the details?