We come from a long line of tennis players. We mostly just play for the love of the game, but we’ve just discovered that one of our possible ancestors won the Wimbledon Ladies Singles title in 1902; corset, skirts and all. So it wasn’t always this way. Our family has played in an Annual Family Tennis Tournament since 1911, and although the distant relatives don’t know one another very well, the event unites us every year to play and eat a hearty meal together and it’s one of our finest traditions. The oldest members give speeches and present the trophies and we remember loved ones not with us any more.
Our older boys play really good tennis and now our younger children are asking for lessons, so off we went last week for lesson number one. Two overly excited children bounded up to the coach, one with new shoes and banana print socks right up to his knees, the other proudly holding my racket which was brand new in 1993. I told the coach that it’s never had a broken string ever (our sons break strings regularly) and he snort-chuckled: “That could be a good thing or a bad thing!” It could be that strings were made to last back then, or it could be that my gentle, erratic game will never result in string-breaking aces.
I settled down on a chair beside the grass court, soaking in winter sunshine whilst the tennis training began. At first they didn’t even hold their rackets and I heard the coach speak about control, coordination and balance. Apparently you cannot play tennis if you don’t have these. They skipped, hopped and bounced through their drills. “I want to see if you can run!” he yelled and they ran laughing and shrieking, racing one another around that court. Their little sister whirled and twirled beside the court in a cream Monsoon dress fit for a flower girl at a royal wedding. It was a hand-me-down and if she waits for an occasion to wear it, she might grow out of it before and so it has become a dress for any normal day. It’s probably sporting a rip or two after her attempts at the agility exercises, but you wouldn’t notice with all the layers, frills and fluff.
Playing tennis is much like living our lives. We might understand exactly what’s expected and know how to play and score and we have watched countless others do it before us, but without a good foundation and plenty of practise, we aren’t likely to witness anything riveting. There is a lot to be said for what goes on behind the scenes. Do we understand how much hard work goes into producing a player that is not compromised by lack of control, uncoordinated efforts and poor balance? When the pressure is on, do we remember all that was established during our drills? Do we carry with us all the light-hearted joy of our youthful enthusiasm for the game?
Every wholesome habit and the well-thought out routines of our very normal days become the huge, white, boring canvas that backdrops bright splashes of genius. Growing in character, filled with integrity and stability is a foundation that allows outstanding things to happen without toppling us. Each one of us are created to win. Our lives are packed with meaning and purpose. There is so much potential just waiting to be released at the right time. We don’t practise winning though, we practise one tiny right move after another. We keep pitching up. We learn to lose well and be a good sport even if we are howling inside. We never give up. We make good choices. We ask God for wisdom and that He will help us to be all that He has created us to be. One day, the final point is in our favour – it’s bound to happen; game, set, match!
Matthew 7 v 24 & 25 “Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.”
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