Encore: Dodge Ball

Here now is a re-post of an earlier post on one of life's favorite little games. I do hope you don't have to play today.


I hated rainy days in junior high. First off, my 8th grade class - of 14 people - was housed in a temporary building. You know, the kind that never survives a hurricane, tornado or lightening strike. There was no covered walkway from the classroom to the main building; we were always getting soaked as we puddle jumped through the parking lot to go eat, use the "facilities", etc. Secondly, the rain made it impossible to hear in that tin-can rainy death trap (on second thought maybe that should go in the plus column).

But what made rainy days the worst was the fact that P.E. was held indoors in the gym. That meant a boys and girls "co-ed" activity must be found and that meant Dodge Ball.

Let me clear this up right now - Dodge Ball is not a co-ed game. No 8th grade girl has ever thrown a red-rubber dodge-ball that an 8th grade boy could not A) dodge, or B) catch and then C) throw right back at her at the speed of light hitting her squarely about the head, chest, neck, gut, legs, arms or face.

The girls were mercifully knocked from the game early leaving the boys to duke it out for supreme being of the gym. If we were lucky the games lasted long enough that we only had to play 2 or 3 games in a given P.E. period. But with a class size of 14 the games went pretty quickly and I was exposed to sudden death and danger more times than I would have liked on any given school day.

What is it about the rubber they use in those red balls? Man, it stings when it hits you - no matter where on the body - even when covered by double-knit polyester gym clothes.

Even though I played my last real game of Dodge Ball 30 years ago, there are days when I am so sure I am still back in that gym fixed in a fierce battle of life and death.

From the moment I get up and start my day the red balls start flying:
- Bad hair day a-comin' and no amount of gels, sprays, polymers or shellacs is going to make it look presentable (whizz red ball right to the face);
- Out running errands and every crazy with a license is going where I'm going, driving slow, no signal, cutting me off, stealing my parking space (slam red ball to the chest);
- Check my mail and I get a bill I wasn't expecting - forgot about that stupid insurance co-pay (clunk red ball to the legs);
- Had an argument with a salesgirl over nothing for no other reason than I was in a bad mood (direct red ball punch to the gut);
- Checked my email and found a "Thanks but No Thanks" email response to a resume (2 red balls right to the solar plexus);
- And probably the biggest hit of the day - just needing some comfort after such a rough day/game of life I grab a bag of Oreos and a glass and (BIG WHAM red ball to the neck) no milk in the fridge.

White flag. Surrender. I give up. Dodge Ball you win.

Or perhaps not so fast...

Thing about Dodge Ball is both teams get to throw red balls and I haven't thrown mine yet. And as it turns out, I only need to throw 1. Actually, I'm not going to throw any - I'm giving it to my Teammate to throw for me. He can throw lots farther and harder than I ever could. First though, I'm going to take a Sharpie and write down on my red ball all the hits I took today before I hand it to my Teammate. Now all I have to do is let go of the red ball, let Him have full contol of it and stand safely in His shadow and watch while my Franchise Player makes the comeback of the day for the Team.

And tomorrow my Teammate and I get to start fresh - and hopefully it won't be raining.

The Original Boy Scout

I love this time of Summer. The days grow later and the shadows grow longer.

As I sit here on my patio the squirrels are busy hunting, gathering, and burying their pecans. The birds are busy gathering berries from the trees. The mud-dauber is busy building his mud hut on my ceiling fan. (And the sports page is happily full of pre-season college football again.)

The world is preparing itself for the coming fall.

This preparation is instinctual. No one has told these creatures colder days and darker nights are ahead – get ready. They have no calendar warning that there are only 29 more days until Autumn.

No, what they do they do because they know in their hearts they must be prepared for whatever lies ahead.

Boy scouts know this. In fact, they know it so well they have it ingrained as their motto “Be Prepared.” They learn everything from archaeology and archery to citizenship, climbing, emergency care to plumbing and soil and water conservation to traffic safety.

It takes a lot of dedication, sacrifice and work to learn all a boy scout needs to learn and be fully prepared. Which makes being one so great. There is a great deal of unknown out in the world but the boy scout, especially one who has earned the First Aid badge, is well able to handle what is ahead and help those in trouble.

I know a boy scout who has earned His preparedness badge. In fact, He didn’t earn it for Himself, He earned it for each and every one of us. It’s a badge we all get to wear. This boy scout, the Original Boy Scout, knows there is an uncertain future for us dead ahead but He has prepared for it. And the twist here is that He doesn’t prepare for Himself. He prepares for us.

Jesus knows exactly what lies ahead for us and He knows we don’t. He knows that it will be scary for us. So, like a proper boy scout, He calms us. He tells us not to be “troubled.” That He has gone to His Father’s house which has many rooms and has gone to “prepare a place” for us. (John 14:1-4)

I don’t know about you but I love knowing that I’m prepared – and prepared for. That when necessary I just pick up and go. My place is prepared and ready. My Father is waiting for me.

Our Original Boy Scout did all the heavy lifting of the preparing, the sacrificing, the merit badge earning. We just do the receiving, the believing, the trusting, the loving.

It really is a remarkable trade considering we do so little in the equation to get our preparedness merit badge.

Just ask the hard working squirrels, birds and mud-daubers.

~

A Community of Trees

If Barbara Walters ever interviews me I am ready for her. Bring on the questions, well, bring on the question. Specifically, the question which prompted Katharine Hepburn to respond by saying which type of tree she thought she was. Because I know the answer I'd give.

I am a Redwood.

I know what you're thinking; I must think of myself as tall, strong against the winds, sturdy and old. Actually, aside from old, none of those things come to mind when I compare myself to the Redwood. Yet, I am a Redwood.

I am also an Aspen.

Now you are probably thinking I think of myself as tall, sturdy, beautiful in fall and old. Again, aside from old none of those characteristics come to mind when I compare myself to the Aspen. Yet, I am an Aspen.

The Redwood for all its height, strength and longevity has a simple design quirk - its roots don't grow deeply enough to allow the Redwood to stand on its own. A Redwood standing alone by itself will fall down. The root system is shallow and too close to the surface. Big trouble for a tall tree.

Good news though, the roots are wide spreading and intertwine with the roots of the Redwoods around it. They grow with each other and hold on to each other. Through this mutual system of support the community of Redwoods is able to stand tall, to flourish and live for centuries and spawn new communities of Redwoods.

The Aspen too has a simple design fluke - there is no such thing as a single Aspen tree. If you see a single Aspen it is because someone has removed its brethren. Aspens grow in colonies. The entire grove/colony derives from a single seedling and spreads its roots which grow new seedlings for the other trees which you see in the grove. But the entire grove is indeed a single organism.

Aspens can live long like the Redwood. They can do this because of the community support they receive from each other in the colony. There is one such community in Utah thought to be 80,000 years old. Aspens can survive forest fires because their roots grow deep and are protected from the heat.

Yes, I am a Redwood and I am an Aspen. And so are you.

Like the trees, we all live in community. We are in community with our family, our friends, our co-workers, our neighbors, the people we routinely interact with at the coffee-shop, the cleaners, the pharmacy, the hardware store, our childrens' school, the post office.

Like the Redwood, we could not survive alone without the support, friendship, companionship, correction, joy and love being a part of community provides us.

Like the Aspen, we were not built to live alone and are indeed not a single unit.

In Genesis, God made a lot of things and after each one said "it was good." Then God made Adam and said "it is not good for man to be alone." Here Adam was in perfect Paradise, walking and talking and hanging out with his Creator everyday and God said Adam was still alone. Alone!

So, God gave Adam a little community. (We won't discuss what happened to the community next, but Eve didn't win Woman of the Year.)

First and foremost, God wants to be our priority. He created in us a God-shaped hole only He can fill. But He does not want us to be alone and created in us a human-shaped hole that only we can fill with each other. Only community can fill.

When we live in community we live tall, strong against the winds, sturdy, beautiful all year round, old lives. Indeed we live Redwood-Aspen lives.

That's a tree I bet even Katharine Hepburn would like to be.

~

Encore: "I Didn't Always Like Sushi"

In the spirit of summer re-reuns, this is a re-post of an earlier post. It's one of my first and one of my favorites. Enjoy the read, as for me, I'm heading out for some sushi.


Sushi. It used to scare me. I was scared the first time I tried it. In fact, the first time was an accident. I ordered off the wrong side of the menu. The left side was cooked fish, the right side was raw fish. But what I saw was described in such an attractive yummy way - and the name Philadelphia Roll - didn't sound off any alarm bells. But when the tray of odd looking pieces of raw salmon (I was not focusing on the cream cheese or the fact that the salmon was "smoked" at that moment) and SEAWEED wrapped around the whole thing was delivered, I felt clearly out of my comfort zone.

What was I to do? I was the only one in my group who had ordered from the "right" side of the menu. Everyone else was sitting safely with their sauteed whatever. And all eyes were on me - "what is that?" Not wanting to be a goober or worse - flake out in front of my big brother and his roommate (I was a junior in college and had gone to NYC to visit with a friend over Spring Break) I acted all casual like I ate this stuff all the time.

But here's what was really happening: my heart was racing and butterflies the size of 747s were flying crazy patterns in my stomach. I was going to have to eat this stuff! Would it be slimy? Would it be gross and fishy? Would I gag on it and spit it out? (Not cool in front of big brother). And how does one eat a "roll"? And what is Wasabi? (Figured out what that was really fast - wow). Okay, here goes . . . hey, not so bad. In fact, it was pretty good.

That first sushi experience was not bad, in fact it was fun, even invigorating. Over the years I have stepped out and tried other types of sushi rolls and nigiri - sushi on a bed of small rice. What I like most is that sushi is fun. Its a fun food. I never have a bad time when I go out for sushi. And sushi is sociable. I can go with friends or alone but I am never lonely. When I sit at a sushi bar there is always a conversation to join - whether it is with the sushi chef or the fellow diners, the experience is almost always different and enjoyable. And there are so many varieties of sushi; there is something for every palate.

I decided to try something new but was scared I would make a fool of myself in front of my friends. I didn't. To think all I would have missed out on if I didn't take what I considered to be a risk.

I know somebody who is like sushi - seems kind of scary if you don't know Him but really great fun and totally worth the risk. And who will introduce you to wonderful new flavors and varieties - of yourself. You've always known they were there but maybe just needed a Buddy at the sushi bar to help you go from the safety of a California Roll to the excitement of an Unagi-Eel Nigiri to get there.

Next time you're feeling a bit out of your comfort zone think about asking your Buddy to go with you. It just might open your world to all sorts of new taste sensations.

He does it for me. Who do you think prompted me to order the sushi in the first place?
~

Teachers and Friends

I thought you should meet some of the friends I met along the way...






























I am part of all I have met...and that includes you.

~