Want the Ball

You’re in the exercise class or dance class. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors face your group as you flow as one with the men and women around you. You are in the zone. Pulse racing to the rhythmic thumping of the sound system, you push yourself to keep up when encouraged by the pint-sized instructor with the wireless headset.

Then you see her. In the third row, there’s a woman who just can’t keep up. She’s somewhere between a half beat and a whole beat behind, raising her right hand instead of her left, zigging when everyone else is zagging. Yep, that’s me.

Have I always been rhythmically challenged? I don’t know. If my lack of coordination was obvious when I was young, others were too kind to mention it. I was an active kid, playing outdoors, participating in vacant lot baseball games or driveway games of Horse. I was even a cheerleader for a few seasons. I never played on a competitive sports team. Until . . .

Co-ed church league volleyball. I was out of shape and wanted a chance to do something outside of my job and house, so I signed up. After all, it was church league. They wouldn’t be terribly competitive, right? We can pause here to let anyone who’s played on any kind of church sports league stop laughing.

These men and women wanted to win! Sure, we prayed with our opponents before the match but, after that, it was SERIOUS. I must say my team was very patient with my C- ability. Our coach, Ann, had graciously given me the rating after watching me practice.

But that’s not all Ann gave me. She was a first-class encourager and a phenomenal teacher explaining the rules, demonstrating stances, and teaching practice techniques. I became quicker and stronger. But she noticed that I still cringed when a fast volleyball zoomed my way or I gave up my spot to let another eager team member swoop in to set up the play. I’m blaming it on the horror of middle school dodgeball games. But, whatever the reason, I had become afraid of the ball.

Ann believed I could do better. At a practice, she gave me this simple advice: You have to want the ball. Not be the ball or be ready for the ball. Want the ball. That one sentence soon changed the way I played. When I wanted the ball, my mind was preparing for my options when the ball came my way. I stood my ground when the opposing server aimed for me because I was the obvious weak link. I learned to set, block, and pass with tenacity. My hesitation and fear waned and I played past my problems with depth perception and rhythm to have a great season. I was easily the most improved player . . .probably got up to a C+.

I’ve carried Ann’s advice over to the rest of my life. Challenges are inevitable and necessary in life. When I want the challenge, instead of shrinking from it, I can meet it with confidence. That client no one wants to deal with—bring him on. Start a children’s ministry when I really didn’t know what to do with other peoples’ kids—no problem. Afraid to talk from a stage—engage that hidden extrovert.

I’m so thankful for Ann and others like her who have encouraged and challenged me. I want to be like that for other people. So, I’m telling you that you can improve. You can excel. You can do that thing you’ve been holding back on.

The ball’s coming. You might as well want it.