where waves grow sweet

After taking a beginner pickleball class through my city with a friend, I was hooked. It was social and active and outdoorsy and didn’t require too much athleticism or coordination to jump in, which was very fortunate for us. And yet there were infinite ways to improve, keeping us coming back for more, not to mention the wonderful community of other pickleball addicts – oops – players.

Pickleball videos started pushing out the dog videos and garden photos that typically fill my instagram feed. I began to accrue paraphernalia, like tennis skirts and practice nets, and my week seemed to revolve around many different friend groups that also enjoyed the sport, sometimes dictating both a morning and evening session so as not to be excluded from the fun. To complete the community aspect, several women in our neighborhood established a weekly pickleball playdate on my neighbor’s court, a highlight of our week, complete with a good workout and more laughter than we knew what to do with. Sheer heaven, if you ask me!

It’s not that I got so great at it. But I had ridiculous fun and I did improve. I also learned (probably from all those instagram videos) that there are certain shots that are crucial to understand and eventually master. Maybe the most significant of these is the reset, a dropshot that neutralizes the ball when your opponent has the advantage. It requires restraint because the tendency is to defensively whack a ball that’s coming fast at you, giving your opponent the chance to continue the onslaught before you are ready. Instead, you learn to remove the pace from the ball, softening and shortening the hit, removing their ability to “attack” you with the next ball and giving you time to get into a better position… at which point you can launch an attack of your own. It is a beautiful thing to watch. 

It’s kind of funny that pickleball illustrated this principal for me before forcing me into a real-life application. I think it’s fair to say that it was a bit much to ask my body to go from never having held a paddle to wielding one nonstop for 6 months. Even so, the tightness that developed in my right shoulder didn’t stop me for a moment. I wouldn’t be taken out that easily! When it began to morph into pain, I felt incredibly mature for passing on a few of the many opportunities presenting themselves. Well done, me! Except not so much, because what followed was a compressed nerve that radiated pain down my shoulder and arm, numbed my fingers and dramatically interrupted my life.

Pickleball wasn’t even an option. I mean, I was struggling to have grace for my daily life and family. Pain is kind of consuming like that. To my great relief, one day it seemed like I was turning a corner and I figured I’d be good to go in a few more days. Phew! But the day that followed was wretched. The pain was worse than ever and, despite every attempt to alleviate it, no relief came. Thoughts kept flying hard at me like the balls of an attack on the court. The discouragement of it getting worse; the fear it would never get better. The images of my x-rays conveying a likelihood of many more such scenarios. Growing up in a home where my dad’s back issues and chronic pain told a story I didn’t want to live. It all felt so terrifying and hopeless.

It would have been natural to return the ball just the way it came by continuing this mental conversation of fear, self-pity and discouragement. The problem is that it would fly back at me just as hard, if not harder, when I was still in a weak place. I was in no position to gain any ground. I needed a reset; a neutralizing factor that would buy me time and position me to prepare for an attack of my own. 

The best way I know to do this is through rest. I don’t mean laziness or inactivity, but a restrained and very strategic choice to take pace off the enemy’s onslaught and remove his advantage by pausing in the presence of God. It is a response to pressure rather than a reaction to it and one of the only places I know where the defensive struggles of this world can be neutralized in order to create opportunities for the offensive truth of the Kingdom. 

So I laid down in my bedroom with my face on the cold wood floor as hard, ugly tears came. With raw honesty, I poured out my struggles to the Lord. Eventually my tears quieted and so did my heart. I was entering a place of rest; this was sacred ground and I knew it. Without the urgent voices pressing in, the quiet voice of the Lord started to rise up. It became clear to me that while I had no control over my physical pain, I was under no obligation to take on discouragement or defeat. So I laid them on His altar, both then and when they tried to return. A calmness came over me; an inexplicable peace in the midst of the storm. It became clear which path of treatment I was supposed to take. It was one we had ruled out but which I now knew would be good, not only for the current pain but as a preventative measure for future issues.  

I rose from that floor at peace. The pain remained but it no longer overwhelmed me. I was not backed up against a corner trying to defend myself, but on the solid ground of God’s victorious Spirit, standing in ready position right where I belonged… or, rather, sitting in ready position because the first thing I did after that was to post a blog about grace. Well, it was about flossing and grace. It certainly wasn’t a hard-hitting treatise on either topic, but sharing the gospel that day, in any form, felt like a glorious, empowered counter attack. It was a beautiful thing to experience.

One thing that stood out to me was that the urgency this crisis created enabled me to address some long-standing problems that were otherwise easy to ignore, which definitely puts it in the ‘blessing in disguise’ category. And, really, anything that creates a trajectory toward truth is a blessing, no matter how many ugly cries it takes to get us there. 

One last note is that entering rest is a simple concept, but like that darn pickleball “reset,” I will not pretend that it is easy. And while this one happened quickly for me, that’s not always the case. I’ve had months or years of struggle over certain things to get to that place of rest where I stop defensively entertaining my struggles and move into the offensive truth of the Kingdom, but the upside is that every single time God has walked me through, it has been like a practice drill that makes each subsequent time easier and, oftentimes, quicker… and the benefits more tangible. I can’t help but think of this verse from Isaiah: “This is what the Sovereign LORD, the Holy One of Israel, says: ‘Only in returning to me and resting in me will you be saved. In quietness and confidence is your strength.'” Yes and amen. Play on, my friends.

Photo credit: TeamSnap