The Letdown

A few days ago I saw an interview with Michael Phelps, pre-London Olympic disaster. Matt Lauer obviously interviewing Phelps because he was the one to watch. Turns out, not so much. Ironically enough, in the interview Michael tells Matt that after the 2008 Olympics he was on an extreme high. He had won a tremendous amount of Gold medals (ponder that for a second - Gold!) and he was floating on top of the world. I imagine his return to the United States and even his own community was met with tremendous fanfare. Perhaps a parade, lots of endorsements (think Subway commercials) and a whole lot of superstar attention.

Then the Olympics were over. The fanfare faded, the paraders went home and the endorsements faded away because he was no longer the "it" face. Michael says he hit an unbelievably low-low. He did nothing for 6 months straight, he said. What? He's an Olympian...many times over. He didn't work, he didn't market himself and he certainly didn't swim or train. He was depressed.

Today I ran across an article announcing the suicide of the NFL player O.J. Murdoch of the Tennessee Titans. Never heard of this guy, but I learned that he took his own life in front of his high school. The article told me that he spent his entire first year of the NFL on the bench with an injury. Sad way to start off a career. Huge letdown for him following high school and college athletics. Killing himself in front of his high school makes me feel like he must have been a really big deal in those earlier years. Probably lots of attention, lots of fanfare. Maybe he even had a parade in his honor. Dealing with an injury that sidelined him perhaps threw him off the track of the thing that he had built his foundation on. Football.

Both of these guys together caused me to pause and really think about what can take a guy so high and then leave him feeling so low and so empty. Foundation. For Michael I am sure swimming literally is his life. I am quite sure I don't want to know about the training regime, the diet or the everyday exercise and lifestyle. I think my muscles would ache just hearing of it. Switch me over to the football field and I can tell you I don't want to know how it actually feels to have a life committed to football. The grueling practices, hard-hitting ins and out of the game - it's tough. Both of these men have lives built around the talent of their physical body. When that fades, or the game changes, or the body doesn't work the way they wanted to, or the emotional high note is not as bright, what is left?

I didn't follow O.J's career so I don't know if he struggled with other things in his life. I do know that his family has got to be devastated that he is no longer with them and maybe shaking their heads  in wonder at why this had to be his only option. Of course, I don't have the physical body to boast talents on but I do have things that are very important to me-my family,  my church ministry, my career. What if those things let me down? What if the excitement was gone and I was left in a low, very dark place? My foundation is in Christ. In Christ is in strength. They are interchangeable terms. One of the key aspects of my faith that propels me to go forward no matter what, is knowing that God's got my back, He's standing in front, and He's protected my sides. In other words, He is my foundation. I have him to reach out to when I am in that low, low place. If my foundation is in anything else (sports, talent, career, etc) I have to know that those things fade with time and circumstances. I have yet to find any other thing that is a constant constantly. He's the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. Recently I read retired NFL coach Tony Dungy's book and was utterly impressed and encouraged at his declaration: football is just football. Sure, it's important. But not as important as God, your family and your life.

I can only imagine what it would be like to be an Olympian or an NFL player. I can't imagine what it would feel like to come down off that mountain top. I'm just a small time player, the journey from mountaintop to the ground isn't quite as far for me as it is for some of these super famous people. I sympathize with their feeling of letdown and wish I could tell them to make sure they have the rock-solid foundation that will guarantee their safe-landing when life says it's time to be let down. If I can't reach them, maybe I can encourage you. Check your foundation. Make sure it's fool-proof, secure and unshakeable. Make sure your foundation is in Christ. He'll carry you through the rise and fall of all those other things.

I Eat Hummus

There comes a time in every young person's life when they mature enough to say they can "remember when..." as if the "when" was eons ago. Usually there is someone in close proximity, possibly older in age, who throws in the "ahh, you're still young!" Many times there are events that occur that spark the realization that you, and I, are indeed old. No matter what anyone says, we have had realized the truth.

Being married for 15 years and having four children is reminder enough that spring chicken I am not. Subtly, there are other reminders as I go day to day with my "I am still young" banner across my heart. This week I had one of those shocking reminders that wasn't anywhere near subtle. As I did my usual grocery shopping, kids-in-tow, doing my best to keep eyes on all of them, talk fast enough to keep Youngest from whatever quick-thought-turned-to-daredevil action he was embarking on and keeping up conversation with The Hub AND Soccer Chick (it's quick the juggling act) I found myself searching for hummus.

Never in my life have I willingly purchased hummus. The Hub asked me what I was looking for and helped me look for it. All the more surreal as I thought not only am I looking for it but I'm having help looking for it. Of course I found it and as the busyness continued to buzz around me aisle to aisle I found myself daydreaming about what this purchase means for me.

You see, nothing wrong with hummus by itself. Healthy, right? I've not done any actual research but I can conclude that this is good for you. This educated guess come from how I even know what hummus is in the first place. My mama, and my green-world loving sister are both hummus consumers. Well, lots of people are, naturally. But, for me, rejecting the food choices and tree-hugging ways of hippies, both reformed and die-hard, has been my claim to fame. I'm a recycler, now...don't get me wrong. I can conserve with the best of them. But I have to be hip, modern and totally suburban with it. Growing up, and take trips now to visit my family have presented such options as trying a little hummus (Um. No.) or some tofu, perhaps. I'm just giving my family a hard time here; and I mean it all tongue-in-cheek. They are great people and it's been a source of constant fodder to tease them about their food ways. One of my many joys in life.

So, to be searching for hummus was kind of like, well, life-changing. What am I doing, I thought... Is it too late to turn back? I did give it a good, long contemplation but then I decided I would forge ahead. After all, I actually did want to eat it. Might The Hub have looked at me funny when I told him  what I was searching for? I think he did, but then, he has long-since resigned himself to know the inevitable: I am becoming my mother.

It happens to the best of us. Thank goodness she's a delightful soul and such a good person. When I am reminded that I am proceeding forward in ways similar to hers, I can take that with a smile. Usually. The hummus one caused me to pause for more than one second. I am going to eat hummus. Heck, I'm going to purchase hummus. What has happened to me? Am I selling out? Some group I think I am aligned to has lost my allegiance? For all my fretting, I didn't just buy that hummus I ate it. The whole container. And it was good. I found carrots and pretzel chips and more, oh my. It only took me 3 days. I'm not proud.

When Bball Chick came and asked what that was, and was it good, I began the evolution to the next generation. "Oh yes, it's good. Eat some." And she did. And she liked it. And so time goes on; I age; I find myself doing things my mother would do, and teaching my kids to do the same. It is truly a beautiful thing.

Fair Game

By no means would I want you to think that our family is biased when it comes to sports-watching. You know, we love a good game. Doesn't matter if a Copeland is playing or not. So how excited was I to find our neighbor-child's All-Star Championship Baseball game planted on the family calendar for Monday night. Despite the facebook posts from various parents of players, it hadn't really registered that this was coming. Facebook can be funny that way. You skim through the posts on your newsfeed and before you know, your eyes have glazed over.

Inspite of my lack of focus, there was the event posted at my nose, alright tip of my forehead, as I entered the fridge over the last few days. So last night, as The Hub got home from work, we all piled in the car and waited patiently (not so much) for him to change his clothes and grab his plate of dinner on his way out of the door. It wasn't until that exact moment that I receive the revelation that Mr. The Hub had no idea where this game was even being held. Alright, to be fair he had some idea. But not enough to drive straight to it. I could never function that way. But it certainly works for him. The game started at 6 and it now being 7:10pm we headed out to try to find the field.

After just one wrong turn we literally ran into the field. We arrive at the bottom of the 6th to find Chantilly in a 1-1 tie over Centreville. There's no outs and a run in wins the game. First batter comes up as we approach the fenceline to get a good viewing spot. Hits a nice grounder into the outfield and lands himself on 1st. Second batter: almost the same play. So here we are, man on first and second, and our third batter is up. After two strikes he's hitting his helmet in frustration. I can read the fellow's mind. He's gotta make this one. It's for the team. Oh, The Hub could barely contain himself. You see, baseball was his game as a kid. It's by far his favorite, and the sport that he still has faith will capture the heart of one of his children. So, there's that pitcher, standing some 9 feet tall, it appeared to me, threw that fastball in to our guy and he whacked it. As it flew past the outfielders mitt, the team went wild. In came the run and the bench unloaded onto the field in excitement.

Friends, all that happened in the course of the three minutes after our arrival. We were way-late, but right on time. Very exciting to see our neighbor, and other neighborhood friends, win their district championship. Maybe more exciting to see The Hub jumping for joy for a team he has absolutely no part of. For the team: they advance: to States!
You see, no matter to me if it's one of my kids playing or a neighbor-child, or shoot, even a random kid I don't know. We love to watch kids get excited over playing well and winning. What a celebration for them and how fun for us to see those last three minutes and see them end well. Youngest promptly resorted to his all-summer-long flipflop between football and baseball for his fall sport. Of course, after last night we are back to wanting to play baseball. Sigh, I'm pushing for football. Baseball can come in the spring, but mama's been waiting for way too long to be a football mom again.