glory days

This week I did something that I haven't done in 17 years, and wow did it feel _____!!

Yeah, like that. Absolutely indescribable is about the only way I could even somewhat describe it. I mean, my feelings surfaced like they had been underwater too long and couldn't breath. So sudden, so explosive, but at the same time so natural, so refreshing. They had been pounding at the door of my heart for so long that when I finally provided a way out, there was no going back. The whole experience stirred up something in the depths of my soul and left me in a total state of wonder with one big question for God: Why?

Why do you give us such innate desires that are woven into the very core of our innermost being, yet seemingly provide only a short window of opportunity for fulfilling them?  If I have served my purpose with these desires, then why doesn't the intensity subside?

Hello?  Am I missing something here? 

All the while, ringing in my ears are the words of David: "Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart."   As well as the words of Solomon: "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven."

Well, God definitely has a sense of humor.  I'm sure it's no coincidence that the verses He brought to my mind mention the word "season," as this conversation between me and my Creator came about simply because of my love for a sport.

Are you wondering what in the world I did to ignite this divine interrogation? All I did was buy a hot pink volleyball from Target and use it in a game of one-on-one pepper with my best friend.  

Are you kidding me, you ask?  No, I'm not kidding. That's all it was. A simple game of pass, set, hit.  Except I wasn't 17 anymore.  It wasn't during practice or pre-game warm up. I wasn't wearing a number 8 on my back. And I wasn't even on a volleyball court.  I was in my own backyard, and I was barefoot. The spectators had changed too.  They were no longer parents and peers, but an 8 year old boy, and two 5 year old girls. Three of our four kids were watching our every move and begging for their turn to pepper.

As much as the context had changed however, much had stayed the same. We peppered like we were 17 again. Like we were proud Lady Indians in uniform. 

We had the same movements: She said I set the same, and I noticed she did too. 

We used the same words: When we were going to set it, we said "set!"  When we were going to hit it, we said "down!" When one of us had a good dig, we said "nice up!" 

 

We experienced the same excitement: There was a lot of smiling and giggling when we had a good volley.

   

As we played, one of us dripped with sweat, and the other one just glowed...more of the same. Our youth revived, we reminisced and talked about the glory days. It was incredible. We still had it in us. And I have to say, we weren't all that bad. 

But as fun as it was, I'm still left wondering if my volleyball "season" is really over or if God has just called a really long time-out...