My Long Lost Self....

Sorry to have taken an unforeseen sabbatical from the blog life. Life sometimes throws you curves that you don't expect. Those curves can take you places. Sometimes good, sometimes... not. I guess I have been more in the middle this time. I was hit by the pitch and taken out of the game, if you will. An unexpected, unforeseen, break from everyday life in a way.

My time in the dugout has been spent contemplating and dwelling upon what I expect, believe, desire, and want out of life, my family, my friends, and my faith. (I did say I was a football guy... right?)

I have not questioned whether or not God exists or whether or not His word is true. Rather, I have questioned my faith in what I know to be true. Getting hit by a pitch can cause pain, anger, frustration... especially if the pitcher is someone you know. You want to beat 'em down... but hey, they are your friend. Ok, enough of the baseball analogy. I am a football guy anyway.

... in football, when you get knocked down, take a lick, kicked, bit, hit, etc. You get up, go to the huddle and get the next play. Sometimes it's the same one you just ran. I can still remember feeling the sweat run down my face, building up around my nose and running off my face in a stream as I leaned over to get into my 3 point stance. I was a running back and was one of the last guys to get into my stance as I watched my team mates get into position and get prepared for the play. The smell of the scraped grass, the sweat from my jersey and that had built up in my elbow pads. The must of adrenaline and testosterone in the air. Bands playing, people screaming plays, the quarterback calling out shifts, players taunting, people cheering, cheer leaders leading cheers... barely having breath while trying to get air through your mouth around your mouth piece, squinting the stinging sweat out of your eyes... all the while waiting for the count called in the huddle to be barked out so you know when to move. (breathing in deeply.... ahhhhhh... yes. That's life)

(sigh)... I miss it. I miss the pain, the rush, the hits, the blocks, the diving, the running, the gasping for air, the stinging feeling of a hit, the bodies amassing in a pile as a play comes to an end, the feeling of a successful play and triumphant score. Man, I can smell the grass and the scent of corn in the air now.

Vince Lombardi had a quote that has been a life motto for me...:

But I firmly believe that any man's finest hour, his greatest fulfillment of all he holds dear, is the moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle - victorious. - Vince Lombardi