Swimming for the Bears

It has been a awhile since my last post, and I hope no one thought I died, though, I thought I was going to die a couple of weeks ago - I started practicing with the Missouri State Swim Team. Why did I connect swimming with my sudden demise? That's a tough question to answer. I haven't always viewed the sport this way. I've been a competitive swimmer for most of my life; from age nine to eighteen, I developed a strong devotion to the sport, constantly striving to achieve better results at almost any cost. I had gotten to the point where I was doing double practices plus weights and dryland workouts. I also had three different binders recording my times, goals and plans on how to achieve those goals. I lived to swim.

My hard work paid off, for I was competing at the international level.  With the way my training was going, I figured that by the time of the next Olympic Trials, I would have a qualifying time in at least one event. But God had other plans for me. When my father was diagnosed with SNUC (sinonasal undifferentiated carcinoma - a super rare brain cancer), I had to majorly cut back on my training to be home to help care for the family. Our battle with cancer lasted two years, and when it was finally over, my swimming career was greatly diminished. I was no longer able to train, and had lost the drive to do anything, least of all swim. Despite my rotten attitude at the time, I was blessed to get a job coaching the sport, guiding younger athletes through the steps to achieving the success I once enjoyed. It was because this job that I began to miss participating in the sport. As I prepared to transfer to Missouri State University after earning my Associate of Art degree, my sister's swim coach suggested that I call the coach of Missouri State's team and ask for a walk-on spot. I thought that he was crazy, but it didn't hurt to ask. So I asked, and got the spot. To say I was shocked would be a understatement. I was excited to swim again, but I also dreaded the thought of training with Division I athletes while I am so out of shape. Going from swimming with the pack to trailing far behind is not a fun thing, and my pride started to wear into my way of thinking. Thoughts such as 'If they only knew how good I was.' pop into my head and make practice a miserable event. Everyday I have to ask God to take away my selfish feelings and replace them with ones of thanksgiving; so I guess, in a way swimming does lead to death -  the death of my pride. 

Every practice I must let my pride die, because I only gain harm if I allow it to live. It is extremely hard to be thankful for a gift when you think that you deserve better, and being able to swim again is a gift that I didn't earn and need to be grateful for. I must realize that my talent in swimming does not come from my strength, and refocus the glory where glory it due - to God. Now I live for Him!

Knowing

Well, my dear readers, I now find myself off campus, spending the holiday weekend with my family. I have never been happy to leave a mission field before, but by Friday I was nearly dying to go.  Because of these foreign feelings I questioned if my school truly was a missions field I was suppose to be actively serving on.  As I pondered how sad and restless I had been over the past few weeks, BANG! God hit me square on the head with Psalm 46:10. 

Be still, and know that I am God; 

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth.

Yeah, He pretty much answered my questioning. I was restless because I was focusing on what I was doing, what I was seeing, what I knew.  That’s one of the amazing things about the God I serve, His ways are high above my puny, simpleminded human ways. (Isaiah 55:8-9). It is very easy to concentrate on the weaknesses and limits I have, and completely miss the glory of God in my life.  I start to add up all of the times I was turned down when I brought God into the conversation, and blindly label what I do as worthless. I feel the pressure of the world and human judgments weighing down on me, and begin to turn to worldly excuses to explain my attempt to pursue godliness.  Paul had his share of feelings like this. He wrote of his experience in 2 Corinthians 1:9, stating that the reason for the pressures and desire to give up were given to him so that he might rely on God, who powerfully raised Jesus from the dead, rather than himself.  One would think that we would naturally choose to rely on the highest form of power in everything we do, but that is not the case. I often choose to view all of my activities only up to the capacity of my humanity, setting restrictions on the affects of my willingness to follow the Lord. I don’t see results, therefore nothing has happen- how silly is that way of thinking? I run around busily trying way too hard to reach out and forget to reach up first.  God is asking me to KNOW Him; that’s it, and He will take care of the rest.  

Be quiet my child, understand how awesome I am; 
and I will show the world my glory and they honor me in every place.

So I now I am taking on the challenge of striving to understand a God who's ways are far above my own, which means I must step out of my own ways just to begin to work towards grasping His. But hey, stepping away from the confusion I claim as my knowledge so I can achieve incomparable, uncontainable unimaginable wisdom doesn't sound like a bad deal to me.