Falling

I was playing wally-ball this morning. For those of you who know me, this statement should confuse you because well... I don't play sports. Nor do I really appreciate objects flying towards me at high speeds.  My first reaction is to duck or run and then perhaps let out a rather high pitch scream.  It has never been to kick, hit, or deflect whatever is coming at me. And yet, you will hear me talk a pretty mean game. But just be warned that is all I can do...talk.  That is, that was all I would do.  Now, among the unending lessons I have learned on my mission, I have been taught to appreciate and dare I say enjoy playing...yes that's right...sports.  So back to wally-ball.  Wally-ball (for one such as myself who is very limited in her knowledge of actual volleyball etiquette) is comparable to volleyball, but it is played in a racquetball court.  There is even an official "wally-ball" you play with .  Who knew?
     My first encounter with wally-ball was not as disastrous as I assumed it would be.  I even made contact with the ball a few times.  There was still some ducking and screaming--baby steps I tell myself...I have to ease in to this new sports playing life. Be proud of me please:)
Anyways...there is this one sister who has grown up playing volley ball and is especially adept in saving the ball by diving for it before in makes contact with the ground.  I admired her agility and judgement as she threw herself to the ground to save the ball time and again.  I sat thinking "Why can't I do that?" or better yet "Why won't I do that?"  Then I realized I do....just not to save a stupid little ball.
     If any of you happened to catch a glimpse of my legs at pretty much any given time in my life, it would have been likely to see a bruise or two manifesting its black, blue, green, purple, yellow self.  You dive, throw, roll, tuck, drop, slam onto the floor quite often while dancing.  It is always on purpose or if it isn't you always make it seem like it is.  Going from standing on two feet to somehow finding your way to the ground is one of my favorite things to do. You go to the floor for various reasons and most often to add drama to whatever movement you are doing. I love to fall.  It gives you a sense of things hanging in the balance. There is a second you float--almost like gravity has taken a little holiday and leaves you feeling weightless.  And then impact.  That balance has been disrupted and you find yourself in a new place rife with new possibilities for the movement. I'll say it again...I love to fall.
     I sat for a while pondering the disparity behind wanting to "dive for the ball" while dancing but not while playing wally-ball. Simple answer.  That difference is because I am invested in the movement and it's outcome much more than I will ever be invested in wally-ball and that outcome.  The impetus behind the action is the driving force.  The act is just a result.  A needed and valued result, but a  result nonetheless. My thoughts jumped to my life on a mission as it tends to do because...well...I'm on a mission.  Why am I here, why do I do the things I do, follow the rules I follow, sacrifice the things I've sacrificed?  I mean I could go somewhere, follow rules, and sacrifice things for a number of different reasons.  And yet, I don't choose to do so.  I'm here because I have found peace, answers, hope.  The restored gospel of Jesus Christ is where I found it. I'm here because "diving for the ball" in real life is the action it takes to produce change and growth.  We all can choose to act...or to dive.  I know that this gospel of Jesus Christ has been restored to the earth today.  I know that life is hard.  I know we all get bruises along the way. But I know that diving for the ball is worth it.  I also know that I can't tell you how worth it it is.  You have to find out for yourself.  And that is how I know that I have a Father in Heaven that loves me enough to allow me to choose, to figure it out.  Just a blessing.  Love you all.