Volleyball.

At the top of this blog, I have a quote from Alan Cohen: "It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.”

I found this quote during my sophomore year of college when I wanted to quit the volleyball team. I posted it on Facebook, but I didn't say what I was referring to because I didn't want people to know I was going to quit. By the end of my sophomore season, I was done. Swearing under my breath at people on my way to the gym for practice every day because I hated going there. Upset at myself for not getting better. Hating everything about that season. When my season ended two weeks early on a bad ankle sprain, I was a mess. I screamed like a crazy person when I got injured-- not because I was in so much pain, but because I believed my competitive volleyball career was over and I was pissed that it ended on a bad block. If you have never had your hands clamp up because you are crying so hard, I advise you to keep it that way. Sorry for anyone in the Fieldhouse (Mara Birge, you are a saint!) who had to listen to that. Cheree, thank you for not murdering me because I was ridiculous.

Rocking the Big Black Blob sweats and finally off crutches.

In my mind, I was done. Finished forever. Never going to play in a volleyball game again.
Yet, as usual, God works in ridiculous ways and I ended up playing my junior season. I was even excited about it. After our spring tournament at SFCC (Dizz, I wouldn't have made it if you hadn't broken into my room and woken me up. What a blessing you are), I was in. I had to be-- I was having too much fun to not play again.

Come training camp, I knew four days in that I had made a horrible mistake. But there I was-- tryouts had happened, people had been cut, and I was on the team. At that point, I knew I was going to give it my all for that season and be done at the end. Darcy McMurray, as much as I want to blame you, I can't thank you enough for convincing me to play that next year, because...

"You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of the dust..."

Tonight is Senior Night for the sweet freshmen that were on that junior year team. Bruister, J, and Stine... Add Whit and Anna into the mix, and you've got a class of five seniors that are rounding out their volleyball careers tonight. Right now, I'm online watching J dominate the outside and  "Stad-a-lee," as the announcer is saying, take on the role of middle. Stine's rocking the block and Whit is digging up a storm and loving every second of it. I remember my practices, games, and conference championship with these ladies and am so excited about how far they have come. I am so proud of my "B side"-- thanks for pushing me even when I didn't want to push myself. Kate, Holly, and Abi, you deserve that thanks just as much as anyone.

"Freshmen and Kathy"... I wouldn't have had it any other way.

I also remember the way that my junior year of volleyball blessed me, even in the midst of frustration and pain. That season, I learned how to serve without receiving anything in return. I learned that amazing things can happen when you make an intentional choice to make a situation the best it can be. I learned that if you wait long enough and try hard enough, Randi Stephens will be a friend for life. I learned that even when you aren't in the spotlight, there are always people who look up to you. And I learned that I still loved the game of volleyball, even if I didn't love to play it competitively anymore.

Senior Night.

I am amazed at the adventures that God has had me on since that time. "In movement there is life, and in change there is power"... I loved that line from the first time I read the quote, but I love it even more now that I can reflect on the power, change, adventure, and movement there has been in my life since the day I sat in Rupe's office with him and Darcy crying my eyes out, saying "I can't do it anymore" and them simply saying "We know, but we still love you." A decision that I put off for over a year was finally made, and chains were broken. I was free.

Tonight, as I watch the last set of teammates I ever had finishing out their careers, I am thankful for the role that volleyball played in my life. Sure, I haven't touched a ball in over a year and those days seem like a whole different lifetime, but even in the midst of pain, that junior year season-- one of the most emotionally challenging of my life-- taught me more about myself than I could ever imagine. Thanks, Whitworth Volleyball-- now go beat Linfield!!

My dear Randi/Randizzle/Dizz. Taken this past summer in Montana... So thankful for this girl!