Autumn Grace
One of the most impressionable moments of my life occurred during the fall of my freshman year in college.
I was blessed to receive a full-ride scholarship to play volleyball at the University of New Mexico, and this heart-changing moment that I’m about to share occurred during one of our practices.
Every drill and every game we played at practice counted for something. There was a number to hit, a goal to reach, or someone to beat assigned to everything we did. If we didn’t hit the mark or ended up losing, we were running sprints, diving for balls, doing net jumps, or sliding on bruised hips doing volleyball rolls.
We pushed hard.
Looking back, I understand the purpose of the intensity. Practice shaped us, conditioned us, and prepared us to compete physically and mentally against other top athletes. But I was a raw athlete and my volleyball skills were awful compared to many of my teammates.
Needless to say, my freshman year of D1 volleyball was rough. I became best friends with:
discouragment
lack
frustration
emotional capacity
my inner critic
resiliency & strength
my Savior and a faith that was forged in fire.
During one particular practice that year, I was added to a drill with a few of the seniors on my team. I was the weakest link. But in my stubbornness, I refused to shrink back.
I decided to bring it; this was my chance.
What I lacked in skill, I’d make up for in competitiveness. I resolved to pour myself out on that court, and give it my all.
And…I sucked.
I shanked easy balls, hit into the net, and let balls drop. I was the place that volleyballs went to die, and I was the obvious reason we lost the drill.
And now the consequence.
We didn’t just have to run that day. We had to run, and run, and run, and run some more, while the winners of the drill were rewarded with a nice, long water break.
After we finished our sprints, I collapsed into a ball of tears. I felt utterly distraught. I was the cause of my teammates’ pain, and I felt like I had let them down.
What happened next will never leave me.
While the rest of my team was doubled over and sucking air, the captain of our team, Alicia Bergman, ran directly over to me and covered me in a hug. She was laughing and she whispered in my ear that “it was OK, that I was fine, and that she loved me.”
I had never encountered grace or leadership like that before. Alicia, in her prime and at the top of her game, encouraged and inspired me- even though I felt like that was the last thing I had coming.
This story reminds me of what the Autumn seasons of our lives are for.
Spring seasons are all about new beginnings, exciting opportunities, anticipation for the future, hope, and potential. The Summer seasons are a time for work, growth, and making the most of what we’ve been given. Autumn is harvest time; it’s when we reap what we’ve sown and we get to reflect on the work we’ve invested during our Summer season.
In addition to being a season of reflection, Autumn is a time of life when we’ve mastered our tasks. We’re good at what we’re doing and we’re not desperately trying to learn our jobs. The things we’ve accomplished position us in a place of influence, and we have the greatest potential to impact others.
Autumn seasons of life are a time to invest in others.
Alicia was in the Autumn of her career. She was an All-American setter who was headed to bigger and better things. She had a tryout with the National team, and she was dating a wide receiver in the NFL for Pete’s sake! Yet, she invested in me, a homesick, sub-par freshman who had nothing to offer her. She chose to invest in me during my ugly Summer season of work and pressure, and as a result, she left an Autumn legacy of encouragement that lives on in me today.
Remembering this story reminds me of the truth that life is about more than what we can accomplish. There is a relational impact to it all, and regardless of if we live selfishly or selflessly, Autumn seasons of life reveal the fruitfulness or the barrenness of our relationships.
The most important things in life cannot be measured, but are instead felt through the hands, heart, and soul of each life we touch.
Let us look for evidence of a day well lived:
The times you made someone smile, gave a tender kiss, hugged, and weren’t the first to let go. Or when you encouraged, laughed, believed, lifted, kneeled, forgave, lived, and loved.
• Who can you pour into and encourage today?