“Love all”

In the sport of tennis, “love” means zero. Each game begins with the phrase “love all” to indicate that both players have zero points. Over the years and through my experience, the term “love all” has truly come to embody the sport of tennis in my life. At a very early age, my dad put a tennis racquet in my hand at our local YMCA tennis courts. From my first swing, I fell in love. Though very shy and reserved off the court, on the tennis court I came alive; I was aggressive and fiercely competitive. Often I would be far behind my competitor, but I would slowly inch my way back into the match until I had eventually claimed the match. My parents coined me the “comeback kid”. Tennis gave me a playground, a classroom, a platform to be unafraid, to show tenacity, to fight, to stand my ground and to love.

When I was 12, one of the local tennis pros gave me my first job. Twice a week, I helped her teach tennis classes to other kids. Most of them were older and bigger than me, but I’d proudly demonstrate a stroke or step in and correct their grip. I loved being able to use my tennis skills to help others. I loved being able to relate to other kids through a sport I cherished. Every summer for 16 years, I returned to the courts to teach at a summer camp. This was often my favorite time of the year, from teaching new techniques to water balloon relays to competitive games with the other counselors, nothing could better sum up those summer days than love. I loved the students, the games, the counselors, I loved being able to work with my dad and my little sister. I loved being hot and sweaty and exhausted and running inside for a popsicle treat with smiling, happy campers. I loved being a teenager but running a camp with 100s of kids, a staff of fellow teenagers, and being solely in charge and responsible. I loved pouring myself tirelessly into improving my camp and the experience for the kids.

I didn’t realize it when I was younger, but later I began to feel that tennis was my calling, and I was gifted in teaching tennis for a reason. I’d find that reason 8,000 miles away on a dirt court in Nairobi, Kenya. The first time I went to Kenya, I didn’t know what to expect. I wasn’t even exactly sure why I was going. But I heard The Lord calling me, and I knew I couldn’t ignore His call. That was a life-changing experience. I saw kids playing tennis with wooden paddles but smiling from ear to ear. I saw kids with tennis shoes with gaping holes but sprinting across the court. I saw kids with worn clothes but laughing nonstop. I fell in love with those kids, with that place, with a sport that gave me so much giving them so much more. I returned to Kenya again this past fall, and upon arriving I knew I was home.

Tennis has been my outlet, my haven, my constant for much of my life. Whenever I felt down, my dad would take me on the tennis court and before the match was over I’d forget my troubles and be smiling. Tennis has been a way for me to love others. From my many teammates to my students to the girls in Kenya, I have had the opportunity to meet so many people through this sport. While “love” may mean zero in tennis, it has been so full for me. And now I have the chance to pay it forward. As I make preparations for my move to Kenya, my heart leaps with joy when I think of how God has orchestrated this. From the cracked courts at the YMCA to the makeshift courts in a slum in Kenya, The Lord’s hand has been guiding me along.  It’s sometimes incomprehensible that He would choose to use me to spread His gospel through tennis. I might not understand it, but I fully accept it.

Each game in tennis begins with “love all”, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing: loving all through a sport that has loved me, blessed me, taught me, employed me, shaped me and given me purpose.

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“No Eulogy Needed”

Last week, my family and I made the trek from Memphis to Cincinnati to attend my Grandma Kizzie’s memorial service. The week leading up to the service was difficult on many accounts, and I was not looking forward to the service. I didn’t think I could handle all the tears and sadness. As we approached the church and awaited the service to begin, I silently prayed for peace and comfort.

The service ended up being a huge blessing in my life. There was sadness, but the pervading feeling was one of celebration for a life lived to the fullest. All of God’s grace and goodness on display for all to see and behold. With every remark from her family and friends, it was clear that Kizzie lived a life that honored God and served others well. It was the final remarks from the pastor that moved me the most. In his words, “Kizzie did not need a eulogy because she lived her eulogy.”

Her life was an epitaph to God’s marvelous works. I am so inspired by these words. How can I live my life in such a way that my living speaks all the volumes needed?

With the frailty of life and the certainty of death, we can all be assured that one day we will die. But when that day comes, we don’t have to fret over our legacy or our fate because in Christ we are assured an eternal resting place. Maybe then the most important part of living is the actual living. And living in such a way, that brings glory to God, but also inspires those around you. My grandmother modeled this for me in the most beautiful of ways, and it was apparent that she touched many lives.

I strive to carry on her legacy, and I trust God with my future, and I know he can help me lead a “no eulogy needed” life.

 

Where is God sometimes?

It was an early May day, but the temperature in Nashville was already in the mid-90s. It was the sticky, sweltering type of heat that makes it not only difficult to breath, but every task is intensified by the mighty rays of the sun. I was sitting in my car at a local park in between errands for that day. Although I was parked in the shade, I could feel the sauna that was right outside my car. As I sat in the car, I began to feel tears swelling in my eyes. I didn’t want to cry in that moment, I wanted to feel the warmth of the sun and be reminded of God’s love and presence. However, in that moment, all I could do was cry. I don’t know how long I sat in that car with tears streaming down my face, and sweat dripping from my forehead, but after a short while, I was distracted from my tears by a buzz of my cell phone.

It’s weird that I would ask where God is sometimes, when I know he is everywhere at all times. But sometimes I think we just have to be reminded that he is with us and cares for us. When I picked up the phone and wiped the tears from my eyes that were blurring my vision, I noticed a text from a friend that simply said, “Are you okay today?” I don’t know how she knew to text me or that I was sitting in a hot car crying in isolation, but that text message reminded me of God’s love in my life, and how he sends people to us in our most desperate situations. Later that afternoon, as I was walking to class, I looked at the big, bright, beautiful sun, and I knew God was there. I felt him in the warmth of the spring air. I saw him in the blinding rays of the sun. I sensed him in the humidity that clinged to my skin. I met God that day and he told me that he is with me always. For me, that message came from the largest celestial body in the solar system. For others, it can come in all kinds of different forms and ways.

At hard times, I think it is easy to forget that God has a plan for our lives and to trust his plan, but when we surrender to his good and perfect will, that’s when his love and grace is illuminated in our lives like the beauty of the sun on a hot May day.

Be blessed and live in the name of christ…

Stop looking down during stressing times and look up and find the “sun”, the light, and the way.