On somewhat of a whim, I joined a bowling team the very first week that I moved to Columbia. I’m glad that I did…because bowling has provided me with many hours of fun and allowed me to get to know some really neat people.
A few months ago, my team—Mel, Laurie (Boss), Bob, and me—bowled in the SC State bowling tournament. During that tournament, we realized that if we could substitute a fourth girl for Bob, then we could enter some women’s events and probably do fairly well. We did. And we bowled in the Azalea Tournament this past Saturday. We’re still waiting for the final results, but when we left on Saturday we were in decent standing…despite my poor, poor performance during the team competition.
While bowling IS fun, it also cuts to the core of my insecurities. I do not like to disappoint people or let them down. I do not like to fail. I do not like to look stupid. I do not like to worry about what other people think about me. And I do not like to feel as if my worth is dependent upon my performance.
During the team competition on Saturday, we were partnered with the top two female bowlers—literally—in the tournament. The other two women on their team were in the top ten. While I struggled to mark, they rolled strike after strike after strike. While I couldn’t get the pins to fall, they made them come crashing down. While my handicap was high, they didn’t have a handicap. While my ball kept going toward the gutter, their balls never came close.
Contrary to some bowlers who know that they’re good, they were extremely nice and encouraging, and I am thankful for that. But bowling against them and being surrounded by the fast pace of the morning and realizing that I was the weakest link in a strong team left me feeling horrible. The morning hooked all of my insecurities and all I wanted to do was disappear and cry.
But then I asked for help from Coach Bob the Bowler. And then we moved to the other end of the bowling alley for doubles and singles. There weren’t as many people, the pace wasn’t as fast, and we weren’t bowling against good-enough-to-be-pros. My body relaxed and my mind focused and I came up with a plan for Boss and myself: Bowl our average or higher. And we did. With the help of our coach, we bowled extremely well during doubles…and as we did, I felt the hooks of the morning slowly loosening their grasp.
I didn’t feel like I was disappointing Boss or letting her down. I didn’t feel like I was failing anymore. I didn’t feel like I looked stupid. I didn’t feel like everyone was wondering why I was there. And, most importantly, I didn’t feel like my worth was dependent upon my performance.
You see, I had friends and family members sending me texts of encouragement, telling me that they believed in and loved me no matter what—to have fun and enjoy the experience because that’s what it’s all about. And I had a team who never once acted disappointed in me or seemed as if they wanted to replace me with someone new. They were glad that I was there with them, cheering for them, bowling with them, spending time with them, and, every once in awhile, making them laugh.
That is grace, my friends. That is love. That is truth. And that is God working in tangible ways to release us and break us free from the fears and oppression of this world.
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