How salsa turned me upside down

Last week I listed the top 10 ways God has connected with me through sand volleyball, and it was so much fun that I decided to do it for my first love...salsa dancing. 

See, as much as I've learned about myself and God through volleyball, I could multiply those instances by 100 and still not tap the multitude of ways God has used salsa to completely turn my life upside down...and I'm so thankful for that. Since I could conceivably write for hours and hours on this topic, I'll prevent myself from getting TOO carried away by just describing the top 5 ways God has connected with me through salsa. 

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

1. God used salsa to give me confidence in who I am.

Growing up, I thought of myself as a social reject. It's not that people hated me; it's just that they didn't even know I existed (which, in my opinion, is worse). I was invisible...a non-person. And I didn't know how to make myself noticed, because I was horrible at mingling and small talk, I couldn't in good conscience demand attention by making a spectacle of myself, and I just wasn't born with the flashiness and charisma that other people have. The problem is, the more I was ignored, the more I thought of myself as a social reject, and therefore the more I acted like one. Even when someone DID accidentally notice me, I would try to dismiss them quickly from my presence for their own sake...after all, I knew that a social reject like me couldn't possibly keep them entertained. After each foray into society, I'd go home, review my mistakes, and beat myself up: "There you go, Jill...that mistake right there is why no one wants to associate with you. Why can't you be outgoing and normal like the rest of the world?"

Reflecting on how awkward I was, it seems strange that such a wallflower could have ever decided to start salsa dancing (which is how I know it must have been God's doing). But when I did, I discovered a world that brought out a side of me I'd never known existed: 

• First of all, salsa is a place where I can interact with people without having to think of a million things to say. When I run out of small talk, I just ask someone to dance! And guess what...dancing is an area where I do have things to express...and where a flashy side of me does come out! 

• Secondly, the culture of salsa - where men are repeatedly choosing me (albeit for 4 minutes of their time) - was a whole new experience for me. It made me think maybe I wasn't invisible after all...that maybe I AM worth someone's time and interest...and that maybe some people actually feel honored (rather than annoyed) when I choose them! 

• Thirdly, salsa is a place where your mistakes aren't really counted against you. When I miss a lead, the salsero just gives me a different move. When I fall down on my butt (yes, it has happened), I just get up and keep dancing. I don't count my mistakes as a blemish on my character; I just laugh and move on...which is really refreshing. 

• Finally, salsa gave me a community of people where I feel like I belong. In fact, I once said that the place where I felt most "at home" was the Mad Frog. That was a place where my best self shone through; where I felt confident; where I felt wanted; where everybody knew my name. 

Here's the thing. The year before I started dancing, God began teaching me that no matter how other people view me, my TRUE identity is that I'm his chosen, loved, wanted child. I KNEW that in my head, but I didn't know how to make that knowledge a working reality in my life. So salsa came along at just the right time to provide me with the safe place to practice actually acting like who I was. That's because salsa was a place that pulled out my strengths rather than my weaknesses. It showed me that just because my strengths aren't the same as other people's strengths, it doesn't make them any less valuable. 

Salsa didn't turn me into a worthwhile person; it just provided a safe place for me to practice acting like the worthwhile person I already was. And slowly but surely, that confidence began to bleed into other areas of my life as well. You'd never know that the Jill you see today is the same one who used to write out pre-planned conversations before going to parties!

2. God used salsa to show me that the world isn't divided into good and bad.

I don't like admitting this, but before salsa, I was the typical religious person who divided the world into "Good" and "Bad." I thought the church people were the good people with whom I should associate, and the non-church people were the bad people to avoid...or if not avoid, at least not really respect. I thought religious activities were the good things that would please God, and secular activities were the bad things that would tarnish my mind. But salsa turned my entire worldview on its head.

That's because in 2006 when I discovered salsa, I was an absolute MESS of a person. (Okay, I'm still a mess. But I was worse then.) Basically, at that time I started realizing that I'm not in control of my life as much as I'd always thought I was. I mean, up until then, I thought that if I just tried hard and honored God, then he'd reward me by making me successful. And up until then, that strategy had worked! But around 2006, I found that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make ANYTHING go the way I wanted it to. I couldn't make students pass achievement tests; I couldn't make parents respect me as a teacher; I couldn't get people to choose me as their friend; I couldn't get married; I couldn't do anything great for God. I was so angry and confused about why I couldn't turn myself into the paragon that I wanted to be. 

This led me to get trapped trying to achieve success in impossible situations. So, for example, successful people (I thought) were validated by being chosen by a husband. But the only men choosing me were ones who wanted something far different from marriage. So what should I do? I mean, I guess that kind of "choosing" could give me some  measure of validation, but the problem was that successful Christians do not get involved in situations like that! But if I didn't do that, then I'd have no validation at all! Aaaah! It was a lose-lose situation and I didn't see any way out. I wanted to obey God...AND I wanted to be successful...but it looked like the two were mutually exclusive. This caused such disillusionment that I started to question everything I believed about life, about God, and about myself. And when you're questioning the very foundation of everything you thought you knew, that creates a lot of messiness in your mind.

Due to my messiness and failure, I felt like I no longer belonged with the good church people who had life all figured out. After all, I no longer lived up to the standards I'd always promoted, so it seemed like they'd have to look down on me. And many people did. One person told me that God was disappointed in me for not pulling it together, and that I probably shouldn't claim association with him until I could do something he'd be proud of. Yikes. In my heart of hearts, I KNEW my Dad still delighted in me, but comments like that made me feel like I couldn't be real with religious people or I'd destroy my good image. I also knew that religious people value certainty, and right then I wasn't certain of anything...so I knew they couldn't relate to me and my questions. Most of all, I no longer felt like a respected equal; I felt like a special needs Christian who is included only because the law demands it.

That's when I discovered the salsa community...and there I found people who didn't CARE that I was a mess. In fact, some of them were more of a mess than I was! ;) They didn't need to know my sin stats in order to rate me; they just accepted me. This was not the picture of bad non-Christians that I'd always had...dangerous, shady people who might rub off on me. These were people I wanted to be around; people who showed me grace a whole lot better than a lot of my church friends did. Salsa became a place for me where I could just be REAL and drop the facade...and honestly THAT'S the only time you can connect with God - when you're being real; not when you're trying to impress him.

Today some of my dearest friends and some of the people I've learned the most from are people I previously would have placed in the "Bad" category. (To be clear, I'm NOT saying that I've now decided the Christians are the "Bad" category. In fact, since 2006, I've found a lot of grace-giving Christians, too.) But what I AM saying is that I've concluded this: There aren't good people and bad people; there are just PEOPLE...all of whom are messed up, bruised, broken, and in need of saving...and all of whom are furiously loved and pursued by God. 

I've also found that some of my most impactful moments with God have happened at a bar with a bunch of people trying to hook up...an activity I previously would have placed in the "Bad" category. (To be clear, I've also had a lot of impactful moments with God at church services, too, so I'm NOT saying that church services are now the "Bad" category.) What I AM saying is that I've concluded this: There aren't necessarily good activities and bad activities; there are mostly just ACTIVITIES...and it's up to me what I get out of them. If I go to a church service while I'm consumed with pride and self-righteousness, it's highly unlikely that I'll meet God there. But if I go out salsa dancing and humbly ask God to reveal himself to me there, it's highly likely that he will. 

I no longer think there are good parts of the world and bad parts of the world; there's just the WORLD...all created by God, all in need of redeeming, and all containing places where God wants to meet with me and change me. 

3. God used salsa to teach me how to follow.

Following a dance partner has taught me a lot about following God...

• Following is a response; not a routine. Following a dance partner is not like performing a planned routine. You can't just memorize patterns and carry them out; you have to be constantly connected to and responding to your partner...moving to the music and to the lead; not to a prescribed formula. Same with God. I can't just memorize rules or weekly routines and carry them out; I need to be constantly connected to him and responding to what he does so that we can move to the rhythms of life together.

• Following means letting the leader lead. The cardinal rule of following is to relax and let the man lead the dance...to trust him to give me the right cues in the right way at the right time. When I do that, the two of us connect and the dance falls into place. With a good lead, "obedience" isn't oppressive; rather, it leads to a strong connection and a better dance. But if I don't trust and obey my lead, I try to take over his role...deciding on a move before it's led, forging ahead with my ideas despite his objections, trying too hard to predict what he'll do, backleading, resisting his cues. And then the dance feels forced and it just doesn't work. Same with God. Everything works a whole lot better when I trust him, follow, and obey instead of fighting him for the lead.

• Following leaves room for freedom & choice. To let the leader lead is NOT to say that I'm just a puppet. See, it's the lead's job to have moves in mind and to give me cues guiding me into those moves. But within those moves, I still have a lot of freedom and choice. I can throw in a shine or flair and make the move my own. In fact, if I want the dance to look and feel good, I SHOULD somehow make it my own! Same with God. When he leads me, he send me in a certain direction...but within that lead, he allows me a lot of freedom to think for myself and to make it my own.

• Following means relaxing into unforced rhythms. A good song has a variety of tempos. Sometimes it slows down; sometimes it speeds up. And a good lead is going to embrace these tempo shifts and play to them. But if I'm determined to force my own tempo on the dance...rushing when the song calls for a pause, or swaying in place when the song calls for acceleration...it just doesn't feel right. A good dance occurs when the two of us embrace the rhythm of the song. Same with God. When I try too hard to rush him, to make things happen in my own timing, or to resist when he's leading me forward, it just doesn't work. That's why Jesus tells me to "Learn the unforced rhythms of grace." (Matt 11:29)

• Following gets easier with practice. The first few times I dance with a new partner, it can be difficult to read what he's telling me to do. But the more I dance with him, the more I can tell from experience what each of his signals means, and the more I have an idea of what might be coming next. Same with God...the more I follow him, the more I know HOW to follow him.

• Following means expecting the unexpected. Conversely, a good leader keeps me on my toes. He doesn't always do the same sequential patterns or lead me in the same direction twice. That's what makes the dance fun! Same with God. He is a GOOD lead, so I should expect him to throw in the unexpected. And that doesn't have to be stressful; rather, that's what makes following him exciting.

• Following is not ruined by a mistake. I'm a pretty good follow, but sometimes I misinterpret and do the wrong move. But to a good lead, that's not the end of the world. He just incorporates my mistake into the dance and turns it into something good. Of course, if I'm constantly doing the opposite of what he wants, the dance is going to be affected. But as long as I'm trying to follow, he's going to adjust for my mistakes and lead more clearly the next time. Same with God. Sometimes I don't follow him correctly. But that doesn't mean I've ruined my life or that he's going to get frustrated and walk off the dance floor. God is a good lead, so when I make a mistake, he adjusts, incorporates it into the dance, and makes his lead a little more clear the next time.

• Following is grounded in the rules. There are some very complicated moves in salsa, but underneath all of them is the basic step which tells me I should ALWAYS end up stepping backwards on the 1-beat. (Unless, of course, we're dancing on 2...) The basic step is like the rules of salsa, and following those rules isn't restrictive; it's actually freeing because it allows us to make sense out of the complicated patterns. I can follow with confidence, knowing that no matter where I am right now, I just need to get back to my right foot on the 1-beat. On the other hand, when the rules are ignored, I really struggle to follow because I don't know where my feet should be. Same with God. He's set up certain rules...certain guidelines for how life should be lived. When I stray from that "basic step," life gets really complicated and it's hard to follow him. But when I stay within those rules, it's not restrictive...it's freeing because it gives me a framework within which I can follow confidently.

• Following requires being ready to stop or change direction. As a follow, I need to be ready to stop or change direction at a moment's notice. After all, you never know when an obstruction is going to move into your space or when your lead is going to suddenly take you in a new direction. That means I need to be paying attention. I can't just receive the lead and then go into autopilot. That would be dangerous and unwise! Same with God. I can't just receive his instructions and go into autopilot. I need to be constantly monitoring our connection and be ready to stop or to change direction if he tells me to.

• Following is best with a strong connection. The best dances happen when I have such a strong connection with my partner that it feels like we're moving as one. That typically doesn't happen with someone I've never met; it happens with someone I've spent hours practicing with. That's when I get to do the really cool moves; that's when we'll suddenly find ourselves simultaneously doing the same unplanned but awesome shine; that's when people stop us afterwards and tell us we're "Damn good." That kind of connection requires lots of time deliberately spent together...but it's worth it. Same with God. The more time I deliberately spend forming a connection with him, the more our dance together is going to take my breath away. 

4. God used salsa to show me that some things are worth suffering for.

Sweat. Sorry, Danielle.

Before I started dancing salsa, I avoided activities that caused any sort of discomfort. I didn't like to sweat, get out of breath, or acquire sore muscles...and I DEFINITELY didn't do anything that carried a risk of getting hurt. It just wasn't worth it to me. (Of course, I also didn't do much AT ALL besides sit on my couch watching TV.)

But salsa is different. Salsa most definitely causes me to break a sweat. In fact, I'd say if you're not sweating, you're not doing it right! 

Salsa casualty

And salsa has caused me a great deal of pain. During my 8 years of dancing, I've broken my nose...leaving behind an impressive spray of blood spatter. I've been elbowed in the head so hard that I've gotten dizzy and seen stars. I've jammed my finger so badly I couldn't open my car door for 4 months afterwards. I've broken my toe and been unable to wear real shoes. I've fallen on my butt many a time. I've gotten gored by other girls' heels...and I've gored myself with my own heel. I've gotten blisters so bad that they bled through the napkin I stuck in my shoe in lieu of Bandaids. Through all of this (save the broken nose), I just kept dancing without missing a beat. 

Why am I such a masochist when it comes to salsa? Well, it's not that I enjoy the pain...it's just that I enjoy dancing so much that it's worth enduring pain in order to experience it.

In fact, one time a few months ago, I remember a guy trying to spin me 30 times in a row. It was SO FUN, but as I was spinning I thought to myself, "I'm going so fast right now that it's possible I could spin right off my axis into the corner of that table and die." For a moment I considered aborting the spins. But then I thought, "No, if I'm going to die, this is the way I want to go. I'll risk it."

Okay, so I don't actually want to die. And honestly, I'd prefer not to endure any more broken bones or blisters. But what I'm saying is that salsa has taught me that some things are worth the pain. There's such a joy I experience when I'm dancing that it's worth it to me to risk suffering. Here's the thing: I could choose to dance at a level that avoids sweat and that avoids real risk. But to choose that half-hearted kind of dancing also means to avoid the level where the real joy is. And to me, I'd rather have the joy...even if it comes with the risk of pain.

This idea has made me reconsider the way I approach lots of things in life...like, for example, relationships. I could approach relationships on a surface level and avoid the risk of vulnerability and real pain. I could, when the relationships get difficult, just pull out to avoid discomfort. But to do so also avoids the possibility of real connection and real joy. I know this goes against the wisdom of the world. I know most people would tell me that if a relationship causes me any sort of suffering, I should just quit and cut my losses. And I'm not saying I enjoy pain and discomfort in relationships. But what I AM saying is that sometimes it's worth it. There are some people I love so much and have invested in so much that I'm willing to endure the broken noses and blisters if I think someday I might get to experience the dancer's high.

And honestly, I don't think I'm THAT far off base. After all, Hebrews 12:2 says that Jesus had the same thought process. He looked at the difficulties inherent in establishing a relationship with us...people who consistently screw him over, who really have nothing to offer him, and who are guaranteed to cause him suffering...and with all that in mind, it says this: "Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross." The cross!!! Talk about pain. So why did he endure it? Because the joy of getting us was so great that it was worth the pain to Jesus. 

Let me tell you something...I'm REALLY GLAD Jesus thought a relationship with me was worth enduring pain, because if he hadn't chosen the pain it took to get to me, I'd still be the wretched, messy, hopeless, depressed social reject I described earlier. And believe me, that's no kind of life. Instead, now I'm CHOSEN. I'm PURSUED. And because Jesus took the suffering, I have joy awaiting me. That's life-changing. And since that's been done for me, I want to do that for the people I love. I want to be the one who says, "Sure, you might cause me pain...but you also have the potential to bring me such joy that I've decided you're worth the risk." 

Salsa taught me that, as Theodore Roosevelt said, "Nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty."

5. God used salsa to give me an inkling of heaven.

Salsa has brought me pain. But more often than that, salsa has brought me joy.

This doesn't happen all the time, but sometimes I'll have a dance that absolutely blows me away. I'll be with a partner who dances to the music rather than performing a routine...to a great song with lots of expressive moments...and we'll feel such a connection during the song that it makes everything feel right in the world. It's like everything is moving in time together. I don't even know how to describe it in words except to say that everything seems to fall into place. 

Now here's why this is so significant to me: Let's be real...most of the time, things in the world DON'T move in time together at all. People grate on me, I grate on others, nature is grated on by everything...heck, I'm even grating on myself. People can't understand each other. Or they don't TRY to understand each other. Or even when they try, intentions are miscommunicated and misinterpreted. The world around us is working against us...the food we eat, the air we breathe. Even our bodies are working against us...decaying, falling apart. The world is like an ungreased machine in which all the gears are grinding each other into powder. 

The Bible acknowledges this sad state of the world: "The whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time." (Rom 8:22) Things AREN'T connected; things AREN'T moving in time together. And I guess that's why a great dance is so special and joyful to me...because it's a bright spot of harmony in a world full of grating and grinding and groaning.

Now, I don't think the world was SUPPOSED to be this way...always grating, grinding, groaning. I think the world as God created it was a whole lot more like a great dance where everything is moving in time together...a great dance with him as the leader. But I think everything got thrown off balance a long time ago when people decided to take control of the dance. And I think it gets thrown more off balance each time we fight his lead. 

So I guess that's why a great dance brings me so much joy...it taps into that far-off memory trace of a time when things WERE all in place...and it taps into a desire to see that order restored.

See, I believe God IS going to restore the world to the paradise he intended it to be - that he's not just going to whisk me away to heaven, but that he's going to bring heaven back to earth. And although the fulfillment of that restoration is still in the future, I think we can see glimpses of the restoration he's already doing here on earth today. For me, salsa is a place where I sometimes get those inklings of the way the world is supposed to be.

And those inklings are what give me hope and keep me going in a world full of groaning...because if just a little glimpse of the restoration of God's order is this great...well, then, MY GOSH, how amazingly wonderful will the REAL thing be??? That Bible passage I quoted before calls these glimpses the "firstfruits" and says that they are what gives us hope during the suffering we're experiencing right now...knowing that no matter how bad things are right now, something awesome is coming that's going to make up for all of it.

Here's how C.S. Lewis says it: "The faint, far-off results of those energies which God’s creative rapture implanted in matter when He made the worlds are what we now call physical pleasures; and even thus filtered, they are too much for our present management. What would it be to 

taste at the fountain-head that stream of which even these lower reaches prove so intoxicating? Yet that, I believe, is what lies before us. The whole man is to drink joy from the fountain of joy." 

Geez Louise, if a taste of salsa water is this intoxicating, then I CAN'T WAIT to drink from the fountain-head. Salsa makes me long for God's restoration...because I don't think heaven looks like angels floating on clouds playing harps; I think heaven looks like God - the perfect dance leader -taking us by the hand and bringing everything back in time together in a breathtaking display of harmony and joy. Now that's hope.

So there you have it. God loves salsa. And because of the joy and life-transformation he's given me there, I love it too.

You did it: you changed wild lament into whirling dance; You ripped off my black mourning band and decked me with wildflowers. I'm about to burst with song; I can't keep quiet about you. God, my God, I can't thank you enough. --Psalm 30:11-12

10 reasons I know God loves volleyball

I play sand volleyball and I love it. I've only been playing for about six years, and I don't necessarily play well...but I do play often. 

Several weeks ago at a game, my teammate shanked a serve and exclaimed, "God bless it!!!" His wife responded, "I really don't think God cares about your volleyball game." 

Now I know she was just joking around and had no deeper meaning behind her response. And I know she doesn't really see God working in any area of her life, much less volleyball, so her statement makes perfect sense within her belief system. But it struck me immediately as such the opposite of my own experience that I had to exclaim, "Actually, I think God cares a whole lot about volleyball!" 

That's all I said to her, but in my own head I just kept thinking...for me, volleyball is actually one of the main ways I connect with God; one of the main ways he allows me to experience his joy; and one of the main ways he teaches me about myself, how he sees the world, and how he wants me to imitate him. So I have to think he cares about it a great deal! 

Since volleyball is a much lighter topic than some of the others I've been working through lately, I decided to spend some time listing the top ten ways God has connected with me through volleyball. And here they are, in no particular order. 

1. He used volleyball to give me community. 

Before discovering volleyball in 2008, I was experiencing a time of real isolation. I had very few friends and no way to find new ones. I kept joining groups at church, hoping to find people I'd connect with. But nothing was working. I prayed about this endlessly to no avail. I tried reaching out to others to no avail. I felt so lonely...and started to wonder if there was something repulsive about me that was causing this isolation. To make matters worse, I'd go to church and have the pastor tell me that "God wants you to be in community." That was so frustrating because I WANTED it but couldn't GET it! I wanted to stand up and shout, "Well, then make God tell me where to FIND that community!!!" 

That's when I finally discovered a group of people who'd get together every Sunday afternoon to play pick-up volleyball and then cook out afterwards. I really count this as a miracle God did in my life, because somehow he used volleyball to bring together nearly 60 people who connected on a much deeper level than sports. Suddenly instead of being isolated, I had so many friends that I had to weed them out! It turns out that God WAS planning to provide a community for me...he was just waiting for the right time. Since the summer of 2008, much of that large community has faded away...but volleyball continues to be a place where I'm constantly meeting new people and making new connections.

2. He used volleyball to teach me to humble myself. 

I grew up in a family that loved sports and that loved to WIN. The message I took away from this was that anyone who gets in the way of your sports enjoyment and/or victory is a nuisance deserving of scorn. So learning to play volleyball was a HUGE step of faith and humility for me because I knew I was willingly becoming what I considered the scum of the earth. I HATED the thought of knowingly setting myself up as people's dinnertime gossip. And beyond inviting others to look down on me, I looked down on MYSELF because I thought I deserved their scorn for ruining their lives (or afternoons, at least). 

Yet I felt like God was telling me to play anyway...because for me it was an issue of pride. I liked to think I was avoiding volleyball out of noble, selfless concern for others and their right to enjoy a nuisance-free afternoon, but the fact of the matter is that it was actually my PRIDE that caused me to avoid their disrespect; not my love for them. 

See, I'm a person who only likes to do things I'm good at...things people will applaud me for; not things that will make them think I'm an idiot. (And at first, my volleyball skills - or lack thereof - definitely earned the idiot label.) So learning to play volleyball was a giant step of humility for me. It did eventually pay off in giant blessings, but not until I took that step of faith to say, "Okay, God, I'll play volleyball if you want me to...even if it means becoming the scum of the earth." 

3. He used volleyball to teach me the difference between surviving and thriving. 

I'm so glad I DID humble myself and learn to play, because God has taught me a lot about myself through volleyball. This is really weird, but before I started playing, I didn't know what thriving felt like. I thought I was thriving when I was really just surviving. Here's what I mean...growing up, I played softball for many years. But I DREADED the practices and I DREADED the games. I was scared of the ball, scared of messing up, scared of the coach, scared of my teammates. But I kept playing because I thought this was how you were supposed to feel about sports. I mean, my dad and brother loved playing ball. So I figured this was just what it felt like to enjoy something. 

When I started playing volleyball, though, I actually LIKED it. I looked forward to playing; I wanted to create opportunities to play. It didn't scare me; it brought me happiness. Suddenly I was thriving in an activity - rather than just surviving it - but it wasn't until then that I realized there was even a difference! 

All this time I'd been assuming I was enjoying something...simply because others said they enjoyed it and because I didn't know what enjoyment actually felt like for myself. It had never occurred to me that I got to formulate my OWN opinions about what is life-giving to me...and that what brings life to others might not be the same as what brings life to me. 

This made me start to wonder in what other areas of my life I'd been surviving rather than thriving...simply because I didn't know what thriving actually felt like. In what other areas was I defaulting to others' opinions instead of seeking the ways God had designed specifically to connect with me? 

Through this volleyball epiphany, I felt like God was giving me the opportunity to re-evaluate ALL the things I do. Am I surviving in this job, this activity, this relationship, this volunteer position because I think it's something I'm supposed to do or which other people like to do, or am I thriving because it actually does bring life to me and God wants me to be there?

4. He used volleyball to define my priorities. 

As time went on and I improved, I evolved from the person who is the annoying, inept nuisance ruining everyone's game...to the person who is annoyed by the inept nuisance ruining everyone's game. One time after I became that volleyball snob, a teammate invited his friend to sub on our team, assuring us that the woman had played sports in college, so she just HAD to be good. (Plus, he had a crush on her, which was the real reason she was invited, but I digress...) Well, she wasn't good. I don't know what sports she played in college, but they didn't involve a volleyball and a net. 

So I was NOT happy with my teammate for putting his crush above the good of our volleyball team...and in my mind, emotional honesty demanded that I act in a way congruous with how I felt. That meant plenty of eye-rolling, the bare minimum of friendliness to this woman who was ruining my game, and very little exertion of effort on my part. After all, why bother trying or acting like this was fun when the game was doomed thanks to his selfishness??? 

But suddenly about halfway through the game, this question came to my mind that I KNOW had to be from God: "Jill, you're going to lose this game whether you act mad or happy. So at the end of the day, what's more important to you? That everyone here leaves your presence knowing exactly how you felt about the loss or that everyone here leaves your presence feeling more blessed because they came into contact with you?" 

Wow. That was EXTREMELY convicting. When I thought about it that way, I realized that making sure that girl went home feeling accepted and loved was a MUCH greater victory than scoring some points or letting my teammate know what I thought...one that had much longer-lasting and important ramifications, and one that would make my heavenly Dad proud. I'd had my priorities out of whack. 

So I repented and changed my attitude...and since that time, I've applied that question to many different circumstances: "Jill, what's more important to you? That people leave your presence knowing exactly how you felt, or that people leave your presence feeling blessed?" I can't say that I always make the right decision (and a lot of times I have to repent and apologize later), but when I DO get my priorities straight, I'd rather be a blesser than a bitch. 

5. He used volleyball to teach me the importance of playing for the team. 

At this point in my volleyball career, I usually play with people who know what they're doing. But when I first started, I played with a lot of loose cannons. I remember one game when I played with a guy would would NOT stay in his position. He thought EVERY ball was his, and he consistently one-hit it back over the net. He actually knocked a girl over as he dove to take her ball! Though I'm sure his intent was to win the game, he wasn't playing for the good of the team; he was playing for his own satisfaction. In doing so, his actions were actually keeping  him from winning because no one else knew what to expect when he forewent the typical pass-set-hit pattern of the game. In trying to promote himself above everyone else, he was actually hindering himself. 

At first I got really judgmental toward him and his selfishness, and I kept thinking, "Look, dude, what makes you think you're so much more important than everyone else here? Don't you know that submitting your selfish objectives to the objectives of the team will actually BENEFIT you???" But (as he often does) God quickly turned my judgment around on me and made me think about this: When I got adopted into God's family, I joined a team that has a clear objective - to bring the kingdom of God everywhere it goes. (And the kingdom of God means the restoration of everything back to the way God intended it to be...the restoration of hearts, relationships, nature, families, health, beauty, etc.) When that objective is accomplished in the world, it benefits me for obvious reasons! 

But how often do I ignore that team objective and instead, fly around the court like Mr. Loose Cannon...hogging all the balls for myself, trying to make sure I have a good time, ignoring the good of everyone else...because I care about my selfish objectives more than the team's objective? Like how often do I promote my selfish objective by justifying myself when I've hurt someone, rather than restoring a relationship by humbling myself, apologizing, and entering into the other person's pain? How often do I promote my selfish objective by needing to prove I'm smart, rather than restoring someone else's dignity by allowing THEM to look smart? How often do I promote my selfish objective by spending all my time on things I enjoy, rather than restoring family relationships by making time for them? (That one actually convicts me right now...) 

Anyway, God used this ball hog to give me a picture of how ridiculous I look and how much I'm hurting both the team and myself when I promote my own kingdom above the kingdom of God.

6. He used volleyball to illustrate the Gospel. 

When I play volleyball with people who are very competitive, I feel a lot of pressure to do everything right...sometimes to the point where I can't enjoy the game because I'm constantly afraid I'll make a mistake that will cost us the game and it will be ALL MY FAULT. I get all up in my head, and the more I try to play better, the more I actually play worse because I'm putting so much pressure on myself to win the game. 

But every once in a while, we'll show up for a game and the other team won't...in which case, we win by forfeit. In these circumstances, we'll often find another group of people who wants to play a pick-up game. And let me tell you...my attitude during that pick-up game is TOTALLY different! Suddenly all the pressure is off. It's okay if I make a mistake because no matter what the score says at the end of the game, we've already won by forfeit! When the end is already determined - and determined by factors other than my performance - I'm able to have fun; to try new things; to take advice; to just wipe if off when I do something stupid...because it doesn't affect the verdict in the scorebook. It's not that I no longer try; in fact, I probably try HARDER...because now I don't need to play it safe. My failures won't go on my record. 

Well, it suddenly occurred to me one day that this is a perfect picture of the Gospel. There are so many times when I feel a lot of pressure to do everything right in my life so that I can achieve a final "winning" record. Feeling that pressure makes me afraid to take risks, it makes me beat myself up when I make mistakes, it makes me unable to take advice because that suggests that my current behavior is contributing to a losing record. 

But the Gospel (good news) is that Jesus saw my predicament...that I was playing a high-stakes game I had NO chance of winning...and instead of just coaching me from the sidelines about how to play better, he actually played the game for me...marked a win in the scorebook under my name and marked a loss under his name...and now the game of life I'm playing is a game that is already won by forfeit! I already have a win marked down by my name! 

The fact that the final verdict is no longer riding on my own performance is such a relief to me because it means that even if I make mistakes, they don't go on my record. 

(I can see how this would be disempowering for people who think they actually have a chance of winning. But let's get real...I'm a perfectionist who realizes I don't stand a chance of living up to "Be perfect as I am perfect." So I like the fact that my performance is not the determining factor.) 

Anyway, if I've already got the victory, that means I can now play stress-free...with the objective of just learning to play more like the Master. I've got to say...for someone who feels a lot of pressure and hopelessness about trying to be perfect, this perspective of life as a game already won by forfeit is extremely freeing and empowering, and almost daily I now remind myself, "Jill, relax! Even if you screw up every detail of your life, it doesn't matter because you already have a win marked in the scorebook!"

7. He used volleyball to teach me that it's okay to switch positions. 

I had a softball incident as a kid that really affected me. Once during a game, I was playing second base and I misfielded several balls in a row. My dad tells me it wasn't my fault; the balls took bad hops. I don't know and it doesn't really matter...what DOES matter is that the coach finally got frustrated with me and made a big scene in the middle of the inning, moving me to right field where I couldn't hinder the team so much. It was one of the worst feelings of my life. 

Looking back, I can see that the coach was just trying to help the team. But as the kid experiencing it, I felt like I'd had a label permanently stamped on me: "Hindrance! Not worthy to be on the field!" I felt completely rejected and condemned - not just as a player, but as a person. And the worst part was that it caught me by surprise! Here I'd been trying my best, but a couple of mistakes were all it took to disqualify me - without warning - from contributing to the game. I still cry when I remember it! 

I think it's one of the things that made me terrified of making mistakes in ALL areas of life...and especially with God. I was convinced that if I ever did anything wrong, God was going to get frustrated like my coach, realize I was just a hindrance to his objectives, and remove me from the game. So every time some endeavor failed or got removed from my life, I figured that was God taking me out of the game forever. Sure, I was still on the team, but really the best way for me to help was to stay on the bench out of the way. 

This really affected my relationship with God because I never felt like my standing with him was secure. I was always striving and fearful, never knowing when he'd slap me with the label, "Hindrance! Not worthy to be on the field!" 

But a couple of years ago I was playing on a volleyball team with the wife I mentioned earlier. Often when she makes a few bad passes or sets in a row, she'll just nonchalantly switch positions with another player to break her slump and get her head back in the game. Or if a teammate is having a rough patch, sometimes she'll switch spots with him. When she switches positions, it's not a judgment or a condemnation. There's no label attached, and it's not a lasting verdict on anyone's skills. It's just an acknowledgment of, "Hey, right now I think you can contribute better here and I can contribute better there. And after a few volleys that may change. Let's just keep moving around so that everyone is in the spot where they can be most effective right now." 

This was seriously life-changing for me to observe. It made me start to think that maybe God is more like my volleyball teammate than my softball coach....that just because he switches my position for a while, it doesn't mean I'm not worthy of playing on his team. It's not a lasting judgment. It's just a game-time strategy to put me where I'm most effective right now...and that may change! 

But no matter what short-term switches are made, they can never affect the permanent, unchanging label he's already placed on me, saying: "This is my child, in whom I am well pleased."

8. He used volleyball to teach me the power of labeling people. 

Depending on who I'm playing with, it's crazy how different of a volleyball player I can be. When I play with someone who thinks I'm good, I'll usually play up to their expectations. So, for example, my teammate Todd always raves about how I'm an awesome hitter. Now, I don't see any evidence that should lead him to label me that way, but he really believes it! And I have to say...when he tells me that's what I am, I actually do become an awesome hitter! I live up to that label most of the time. 

On the other hand, I play with someone who makes fun of me for always serving into the net. Now, that is simply not a true label. I'd say my over-the-net percentage is probably 9 out of 10. But for some reason, he hangs on to that 1 mistake, over and above the 9 successes. So when I play with THIS guy who jokingly reminds me before every serve, "Now, Jill, remember to serve it OVER the net," I guarantee I'll be closer to 4 or 5 out of 10. It's crazy. And when I'm with playing with someone who's not just joking around - who actually does think I'm a bad player and is annoyed to be on the court with me - well, I may as well just go home. In that case, it doesn't matter how many times I tell myself, "Jill, bend your knees! Pass the ball gently!"...if I believe my teammate thinks I'm an idiot, I will end up playing like an idiot. 

Okay, so I probably need a sports psychologist or something. But what I take away from this is that labels are powerful - in all areas of life! If all it takes to draw out my hitting potential is for Todd to TELL me I hit like a beast...well, what would happen if I started labeling people around me according to their potential, rather than according to their mistakes? And what if I actually said it to them out loud? What if...rather than focusing on all the weaknesses I see in someone and therefore labeling them an asshole or an idiot (and prompting them to live down to that expectation), what would happen if I focused on the potential that GOD sees in that person and labeled them the way HE does...as someone worth infinite time and effort; as someone worthy of inheriting the wealth of the king of the universe; as someone who's the spitting image of their Dad; as someone who's been equipped with EVERYTHING they need to be a worthwhile member of his family? 

Sometimes it feels delusional to label people according to their potential instead of their weaknesses, but at the end of the day, I think God sees me more like Todd does than the guy who teases me about serves. And when he calls out my potential, he draws it out too. I want to do that for people the way my Dad does. (And I can't say that I always DO...but I'm learning!)

9. He used volleyball to teach me not to receive self-condemnation. 

I struggle a lot with self-condemning thoughts. They feel like heavy slime that pours over my soul and coats it with a poisonous and unbreathable layer of goo that holds me down. 

Lately I've been playing a lot of doubles, and that's a prime opportunity for these thoughts to slime me because I'm not as good as everyone else. Most people are nice, but once I was playing with a really condescending partner. I gave him a few bad sets, but then when I gave him a perfect set, he hit the ball into the net and blamed it on me, exclaiming, "Well, I missed because I'm used to you setting behind me!!!" 

Ouch. Most people would probably get mad at him, but I'm so self-condemning that this caused me to get mad at myself. The slime poured over me as these thoughts flooded my brain: "What do you think you're doing here, Jill? You're not good enough to be here! I can't believe you even thought you were! Everybody wishes you were gone...they're just not as rude as this character, so they're not saying it out loud. But you don't belong here and you ought to feel ashamed of yourself. Everybody thinks you're a loser and they're right." The slime of condemnation was burying me so that I couldn't see the light. But then that made me really indignant, so my next thoughts were, "Who in the world does this guy think he is...talking to ME that way?!?! He's not very good himself! Look at that shot he missed! He's got no right to criticize me! Maybe I should start pointing out all the mistakes he makes!!! In fact, I think I will. Next time he does something wrong, I'm going to say it loud enough for the other team to hear. And maybe I'll also point out that he's socially awkward. How would he like THAT?" These thoughts caused a secondary slime of self-righteousness and anger to coat my soul. But that made me feel guilty..."What is wrong with you, Jill?! You call yourself a CHRISTIAN and you're having thoughts like that about someone else? You're a loser and a failure. You may as well just go home and stop poisoning all these people with your ridiculous thoughts and overanalysis. The best thing you can do for people is to stay away from them." 

SLIME. I just felt like I was wading around in all this slime. And that's when I decided maybe NONE of that internal conversation was from God. Maybe all that slime was from Satan, and if so, I didn't have to receive it. After all, who would want more to ruin a perfectly good day of fun and sun than my Enemy?!?! 

So when I decided not to receive the slime, what I was left with were these thoughts: "This guy is condescending and he's clearly got issues. Fact. And I'm not the best volleyball player ever. Fact. But I'm trying my best and improving, and if these people are feeling all slimy about me being here, that's their problem. I'm just going to keep trying hard and enjoying myself." And those thoughts didn't feel slimy and weighty; they just felt factual. 

For the rest of that afternoon, whenever one of those slimy thoughts came to me, I just rejected it and kept playing and having fun. Since then, I've used this strategy in many situations when I feel that slime of self-condemnation start to pour over my soul. I'll actually say out loud, "I do not receive this condemnation. My Dad says he's pleased with me, and that's the final verdict. So go away." It doesn't always stop the slime right away, but that day at volleyball was a turning point for me in understanding that I don't have to receive self-condemnation and let it ruin my day.

10. He used volleyball to give me a retreat from the war in my mind. 

This one is going to make me sound crazy, but I'm just putting it out there. For some reason (probably due to my naive childhood prayers asking daily to hear his voice), God has given me a mind that is more in tune with the spiritual world than I think most people's must be. This is hard to explain if you've never experienced it, but I feel like I've taken Neo's red pill...and it's both a blessing and a curse. 

On the one hand, it's awesome because in almost everything that happens in the natural world, I sense God speaking to me and interpreting it for me through a spiritual perspective. I mean, I hear from God A LOT. He not only gives me instructions, but he encourages me, reassures me, and just helps me step back and see things through a different lens. I feel like God has given me this gift - NOT because I'm something special - but because he intends for me to share those insights with others and to help others to draw close to him as well. So in that way, I consider it a wonderful blessing. 

But on the other hand, it's a terrible curse to be so attuned to the spiritual realm because I also hear from God's Enemy A LOT. He takes everything my Dad says to me and spins it into a big, confusing mess in my mind. So in trying to separate the truth from the lies, my mind is literally always racing down at least 3 different paths at once...analyzing, predicting, backtracking, questioning, concluding...trying to discern what's coming from my Dad and what's coming from his Enemy. Sometimes it gets overwhelming and makes me feel isolated from others who aren't experiencing the same thing. 

The only way I've found to clear my mind of all that spiritual chatter is to do something physical...like volleyball. (I know you're probably thinking I've just spent this entire blog listing all the spiritual chatter I've heard during volleyball, but let me just say those things are all very light compared to what I'm usually pondering.) 

So anyway, I feel like God knew the heaviness he was placing in my life by allowing this spiritual war to play in surround-sound within my brain. And so he's also provided a retreat from the fighting by giving me the gift of volleyball.

So there you go. Those are the top ten ways God has connected with me through volleyball, and these things (among others) make me think he must care about it as much as I do! I'm not saying there's something particularly holy about the specific game of sand volleyball. I mean, I'm sure God could have taught me these same things through many other sports or activities. 

But I am saying I think God is really interested in using everything we do as a way to connect with us. (It just so happens he uses volleyball for me because he knows I like it.) And I think the more we look for him in our everyday lives, the more we'll see him there. So that's why I'm convinced God DOES care about volleyball, and that when he remakes this world into the paradise he intends it to be, I think there will be miles and miles of sand. :) 

Let every detail in your lives - words, actions, volleyball, whatever - be done in the name of the Master, Jesus, thanking God the Father every step of the way. --Col 3:17