I
was able to play tennis with my dad because I moved back home this September, some
post-graduate plans having fallen through and others not yet coming to
fruition. After a few weeks of moping, feeling sorry for myself and trying to
figure out if I had done something wrong to end up in south Florida, I finally
joined my dad on the tennis court. It occupied my time productively, got me in
shape and gave me a chance to join my dad while doing something he loves.
There are a few phrases
my dad stresses and repeats throughout every tennis lesson. Stay in the shot. Follow
through. Watch the ball. Control, not power. These reminders apply to forehand
and backhand shots, building a consistent volley game, and not wasting valuable
energy during a match. Some drills were mundane, and when I tried to emulate
tennis pros by taking shortcuts, my dad reminded me tricks could not substitute
for real skill.
There were many days
when, both on and off the tennis court, I wondered how any of these lessons
mattered. How did I end up here? I felt like I got off the highway at a wrong
exit, and was wandering around with no end in sight. Sure I enjoyed tennis, and
spending time with my family, but mounting doubt and debt still weighed heavily
on my mind.
In moments like that, I’m glad I had friends
and this church family to remind me, God said he will make a way in the
wilderness. Rough ground becomes level and rugged places become a plain. God
was sending me through what felt like wilderness, to deliver me to a promised
land. Every swing and a miss, every out of bounds return was preparation for
the day when I could finally return and beat my dad on one of his serves. The
lessons he taught me all came together. Shoulder over the knee, racquet back
early, full turn through the swing and a crosscourt shot will land well in
bounds and out of the opponent’s reach. So every cover letter, every un-returned
follow up email, every interview finally came through with a job offer in
Washington, DC. The money I’ll be making, the opportunities I’ll have to build
my network and further myself in my career- they’re blessings I don’t deserve.
I know better than to declare victory for myself. I didn’t do any of it. The winning
shots I returned to my dad would have been impossible had he not repeated those
lessons to me over and over. So I knew better than to say me receiving this
offer to start my career was just me, being all good- it’s all God.
Starting next Monday, I
won’t get to play tennis in the mornings with my dad anymore. Just as soon as I
started to show consistent improvement with my game, all those plans I had set
in motion started moving at full speed, and tennis with my dad will now have to
take place on visits home from Washington, DC. As I reconsider the past few
months- which at the time felt like an eternity- I realize my dad taught me
about how to proceed through these new transitions. I also realize that the
unconditional love and guidance I received from my father on earth, is
multiplied infinitely by the love and favor provided to me by my father in
heaven. I had been praying for a clear direction, a clear path toward my next
step in life. In his image, God created a man who could show me that, just like
on the tennis court, reaching the next level of success takes follow through. It
takes staying in earshot of God’s voice, through prayer; attacking my goals
without worrying about when or if they’ll come true, and allowing my hand and
my life to be controlled by His power, not my own.
My
father in heaven, like my father on earth, does not make learning these lessons
easy. You can’t learn how to play tennis by watching. You learn by doing, and
by practicing every day, especially when you don’t feel like it.
My dad taught me how to
play tennis. My dad taught me how to have faith.
