Dodgeball

"If you cry you can't play."
The challenge in his eyes was obvious. I dropped my eyes and stared at the ball in his hands.

"Alright." I said. With a quick glance, I did not miss the smile on his face. It was not meant to be inviting.

For weeks I had watched the 5th and 6th grade boys play dodgeball on the court in the mornings before school. The accuracy with which they could throw the ball and make contact with the players in the circle fascinated me. I loved dodgeball. None of the other fifth grade girls wanted to play with the guys. That should have made me leery.

Dodging the first few throws was easy. The one that caught me in the middle of the back and knocked me to the ground left me gasping for air. As I stood to my feet, I blinked back tears and stepped to join the outer circle. Every guy watched and waited for me to cry. Somehow I managed to focus on the game and not give in to my immediate discomfort.

For weeks I took the brutal hits of the ball. I waited for the guys to show me how to throw to get the speed I desired. I was willing to wait, watch, and learn to be the best at the game. The weeks that passed seemed like an eternity.

The day finally arrived when the best player approached and instructed me in how to grip and throw the ball. My first attempts sent the ball zinging over the heads of the players. I ignored the teasing my botched efforts brought me.

I finally released the ball with accuracy hitting my chosen target. Johnny hit the grown hard. In that brief moment, the game stopped and all eyes were on me. I had succeeded in throwing the ball with the speed of the other boys.

When I began to write this year, I felt like I was playing dodgeball again. Many times I've had the wind knocked out of me. I've thrown some zingers with my writing, but it's part of the process. Writing is one of the dreams I want to pursue. Fulfillment of dreams takes work.

Don't give up on your dreams if you get knocked down. It may sting a few times, but it's worth it.

The Right Ingredients

As the years have passed, I've realized the way I like to celebrate my birthday has also changed. My list of material things has grown smaller and my list of memory makers has grown larger. Year 47 of my life has started out with the right ingredients for making special memories. Here is the recipe:

*An early morning singing phone call from a five-year-old; my friend's daughter
*The men in my life, my husband and sons, scurrying around the kitchen to make me breakfast
*Heart shaped scrambled eggs (that takes talent)
*Home-made cards
*A clean house, which was the only thing I requested
*Birthday cards in the mail
*Birthday wishes from on line communications
*Dinner with dear friends

Mix this all together and allow it to unfold over twelve hours. The results; a perfect day because it had all the right ingredients.

Did You Say "Change?"

Two weddings, three deaths, and a baby shower can summarize this past month in my life. No, these events did not take place in my family, but in my family of friends. Though all different experiences, they all have one thing in common--change.I have heard that word more in the last few weeks than I have in a long time.

However, for the Perkins' household, "change" has become the new "normal". Almost everything people look to for stability in their lives has changed in ours. I'm not saying they are all bad, but definitely different.

Early in life I knew change was not something I enjoyed or gravitated toward. On my 13th birthday, my Mom found me sitting outside crying. Why? Because I didn't want to change into a teenager.

With a year of big transitions coming to an end in my life, here are a few lessons I have learned.

1. Change doesn't happen over night.
2. It requires letting go of something to move forward.
3. Change can bring tears of joy and/or sadness.
4. I don't always end up where I'm headed.
5. I have to draw closer to God to make the journey.

Number five gives me the most comfort, because if there happens to be a change in direction during the transitions that are happening in my life, I have to be close to God to know I'm headed in the right direction.

Life is forever changing, God is not. It's nice to know He remains constant.

Snug

When getting on an airplane, there are certain words that can cause a great amount of anxiety. "Please fasten you seat belt and make sure it's on tight because we're in for a bumpy ride." The stewardess was aware these words fell into that category.

My sister-in-law proceeded to tell me, in detail, about the flight "she will never take again." The short 48 minute flight increased her prayer life and gave her an appreciation for alternative travel arrangements when needed.

We laughed together when her ordeal was over, but I'm sure there was nothing humorous as the plane bounced her around.

Also, there was an added explanation for tightening her belt. "We don't want you to bump into anything." The stewardess said.

Makes sense. Bumping into things can cause bodily harm, especially when you are thousands of feet in the air. My guess is that everyone heeded the instructions they received; instructions that were there for their benefit and protection.

In Ephesians, we are instructed to put on the Belt of Truth. God probably wants us to put it on tight so it will keep us from bumping into some of the attacks that are meant to harm us.

The Christian walk can often times be a "bumpy ride." The Belt of Truth is something God gives to us for our benefit and protection.

I pray I remember to put it on every day...nice and snug.

Just a thought.

I think I'll write--"Wina, Can I see the white dog?"

In order to take time to write, I only need a few things; a place to write and a little quite.

"I don't know why your dog doesn't like peanut butter."

However, when a 5 year-old is sitting at your back--

"Why do you have small doggies?"
"Because I like small dogs."

As I was saying--
"Wina, my Mommy remembered my jammies. Remember, Wina, I have church tomorrow."

"Okay."

Let's try this again--

"Wina, what kind of chairs are over there?"

"The kind you sit on."

Ring, ring

"Your phone is ringing."
"I know the answering machine will get it."
"Remember Wina, I have church tomorrow."

"Wina, I love you."

Maybe now is not the time to write. I think I need to engage with my friend's 5-year-old daughter who is spending the night with us.

"Wina, check out the Lego thing I built."

I think I will.

Grace Abounds Here

Like a right of passage, we’ve all experienced it. Through sweaty palms, butterflies in the stomach, or tense muscles, being the “new kid on the block” has a way of expressing itself differently in each of our life.

Due to some circumstances out of my control and others that were not, I found myself rushing to teach my first class at a new location, with a new staff team, and new kids. Changing into my staff shirt in the bathroom, I was trying to convince myself that I was ready.

Sweaty hands—check.
Butterflies in the stomach—check.
Tense muscles—got’em.

My lesson plan was ready and the supplies I needed to teach were buried in the oversize bag I carried. Having taught the subject before didn’t remove the feeling of being a “newbie.”

As the principle walked by she stopped and smiled at me.
“You okay?”
“Trying to figure everything out.” I replied. My arms were loaded down with all of the information and notebooks I should have picked up long before that first day.

“You’ll do fine, grace abounds here.” She disappeared into the school office.

Grace abounds here. Wow.

With those three words, my entire day changed. My lesson didn’t go as planned, some of the kids asked about the previous teacher, but with an over abundance of grace everything was okay.

I pray not just in the new situations you encounter, but with the everyday patterns of your reality, that you will find grace abounding.

Let me end with my interesting revelation; once grace was extended to me, I was able to give it to myself. Maybe that’s where I should have started.

It's September That Can Only Mean One Thing

School is in full swing. Sigh...