Do Your Job

When Cade was a freshman, he and three of his friends played on the Varsity baseball team. While I was extremely proud of him, it was intense because of the high expectations for a fourteen year old kid. And on top of that, his dad was one of the coaches. The initial part of the season was full of controversery as the boys tried to prove themselves, and some of upperclassmens' parents accused the coaches of playing favorites. Luckily, it all worked itself out in the end. The boys proved they were worthy of the position, the other players accepted them, and heck, they won the state championship. But that is all a side note to my point.

During the season, when Cade would get up to bat, Ryan would clap his hands together from the first base coach position and say "Do your job". Not, "You can do it", or "I believe in you", but just a simple "Do your job." I spent a good part of that time thinking Ryan was a jerk. What in the world?! Here was my baby boy, who needed all the encouragement we could offer, and Ryan was just telling him to do his job. Finally I confronted Ryan about it. (Confronted may be a strong word, let's just say "asked"). What he told me, struck me as so profound, that it keeps coming back to me as a motto for my life.

He said, "You know Marcie, I get so nervous for him sometimes that I just have to turn away. My stomach churns and I want nothing more for him than to get a great hit. But nothing I say or do can get that hit for him. He knows what to do. We've taught him, and he's practiced it. All he has to do is get up there and do his job.

"Wow. That really changed my perspective on Ryan, Cade and their relationship. Nobody was asking Cade to perform a miracle, but then again, no one expected him to fail. Doing "his best" wasn't quite enough, but there was a total expectation that he could handle the task. And if he failed on that try (which happens enough in baseball) Ryan was there to tell him to hang in there, give him some advice get him ready for the next time.

Anyway, that phrase often comes to my mind when I'm feel overwhelmed and stressed. "Just do your job". I don't have to be perfect, I don't have do even do it all. I just have to accomplish the task that is right in front of me. And sometimes, I won't be successful. But there is always someone there to tell me to hang in there and encourage me to keep trying. Truthfully, it reminds me a lot about our relationships with Heavenly Father. I can just imagine him watching us, hoping we'll "do our job", but knowing that he can't do it for us. Yet, he's always there, ready with encouragement, a little advice, and the expectation that we'll get back in the game.

Soccer

Soccer season is well underway here in St. Johns. Lauren's little team struggles, but hey-we only lost the last game 3-0 instead of the 10-0 thrashing they took the first game. But I'll tell you one thing, they have the best treats of anyone around. Not only are there treats and drinks after the game, but we also have a snack of some sort at half-time. And with Lauren, it's all about the amount of "stuff" you come home with. So she feels like a winner no matter what. And while the picture doesn't do it justice, you should see those uniforms. During the night games, I don't think lights are necessary. These kids positively glow in the dark!

Runaway

Ryan and I were able to get away for a little vacation this past weekend. We ended up going to Flagstaff where my sole purpose was to spoil myself. Ryan was very agreeable and even spent a little time in Target with me. (He hates the place, so it was quite a concession).

On our way home, we spontaneously decided to take the Buffalo Range Road exit. It's between Winslow and Flagstaff. There is actually a herd of buffalo out there somewhere. (Not that Ryan can shoot these-but he considered it "research"). The ranch is about ten miles off the freeway, down a dirt road. We didn't see any buffalo. But we had a nice surprise when the road dipped down around a corner and revealed an old bridge. It was in a little wash/canyon with some sort of Virginia Creeper growing up the canyon walls. It was a little oasis in the normally brown landscape.

Quirky Me

So, I was tagged by Missy to reveal 6 quirks (or at least the ones that I will admit to). In no particular order. . .

1. I HATE to use the phone. Truthfully it borders on a phobia. It takes me a few hours to even days to work up the courage to call about bills, etc. If I have the chance to drive somewhere to talk in person, rather than on the phone I will do it. Unfortunately, my insurance is somewhere in Texas. . .

2. I won't drink a pop out of a can or a bottle. I have to have it with ice. Which leads me to the next quirk.

3. I have a favorite type of ice. Ryan spends hours mocking me, but I really don't like the ice that comes out of my ice maker. I love the ice made by the SJ Ice Company, here in St. Johns. Ryan calls it gourmet ice.

4. I really don't like cold cuts. Occasionally, I will have a ham sandwich, but most of the time I just think it is slimy meat that may or may not be fully cooked. Go figure.

5. I don't like my food to touch each other on my dinner plate. When my salad touches my mashed potatoes. . .Ugh. . .

6. I have a big "personal space" area. I find myself having to make subtle back steps when people get too close to me.


Other than that, I'm perfectly normal. I promise!

Another Two Weeks. . .

We took Cade back to the doctor yesterday to check his progress. Cade's been checking his own progress lately, proudly showing me how he can rotate his arm this way and that. The doctor didn't seem too impressed. . . When he exerted pressure against Cade's arm, it was obvious that he isn't at 100%-at all. Actually it was pretty much what Ryan and I expected, but I think Cade may have been hoping to be playing soon. Now, he will be starting physical therapy Monday. If all goes well, the doctor has released him to begin practicing on September 30th. On the bright side, he should make a full recovery, and his arm will actually be stronger than ever.

Personally, I can't wait for that kid to actually get to HIT someone. Naturally, I don't want him to hurt-but man-he is driving us crazy! A couple days ago, I told him I sure liked him better when he was 15, because he is a snotty 16 year old. He just laughed and said, "Mom, I just need football."" Sure enough, when I thought about it, he just needs to get out a lot of testosterone.

The Twelve Gifts of Birth

There's a bit of a story behind my love of this book. About ten years ago, I bought it at a book fair. That following summer, when I visited my family in Alaska, the author was holding a book signing at the local Barnes and Noble. My sister, Cortney, and I had the chance to visit with her for quite a while. She wrote the book for her daughters in response to the fairy tale idea that "royal" children received "royal" gifts at their birth. She wanted her girls to know that they received gifts at their birth, and it was their privilege and responsibility to develop those gifts.

I don't want to break any copyright laws by reproducing the whole book, but let me share those 12 gifts with you. The story tells how wise women, or "Fairy Godmothers" began to understand that these gifts weren't just for royalty. And while initially, they couldn't proclaim the gifts to all children, they did make a prophecy:

Some day all the children of the world will learn the truth about their noble inheritance. When that happens a miracle will unfold on the kingdom of Earth.

And their secret was that "At the moment you were born, as you took your first breath, a great celebration was held in the heavens and twelve magnificent gifts were granted to you."

The first gift is STRENGTH.

May you remember to call upon it whenever you need it.

The second gifts is BEAUTY.

May your deeds reflect its depth.

The third gifts is COURAGE.

May you speak and act with confidence and use courage to follow your own path.

The fourth gift is COMPASSION.

May you be gentle with yourself and others. May you forgive those who hurt you and yourself when you make mistakes.

The fifth gift is HOPE.

Through each passage and season, may you trust the goodness of life.

The sixth gift is JOY.

May it keep your heart open and filled with light.

The seventh gift is TALENT.

May you discover your own special abilities and contribute them toward a better world.

The eighth gift is IMAGINATION.

May it nourish your visions and dreams.

The ninth gift is REVERENCE.

May you appreciate the wonder that you are and the miracle of all creation.

The tenth gift is WISDOM.

Guiding your way, wisdom will lead you through knowledge to understanding. May you hear its soft voice.

The eleventh gift is LOVE.

It will grow each time you give it away.

The twelfth gift is FAITH.

May you believe.

It goes on to say that as you use these gifts, you will discover other gifts that make you who you are. It also says that you should look for these gifts in others, and share the "secret" and be ready for the miracle to unfold.

So, that's part one of the story. It's an inspiring little book. One of those things that help you remember who you are, and who you are capable of becoming. Part two of the story is that my parents were going through some of Cortney's things and found an "additional" part of the story that I'd written during that summer. So, I'm sharing it here:

What the book fails to mention is the individual stories of each person who received these twelve gifts. The most memorable of these tales is the story of the Grover Hill Girls. For when the twelve fairies passed into the little valley of St. Johns, they realized that a 13th gift would be needed in order that these girls prosper in such harsh conditions. And that thirteenth, unique gift is this:

HUMOR.

To see the light side of all situations, even the dark ones.

And while this gift was specifically given to the girls that lived in the neighborhood down from the fairgrounds--it will go on forever--being faithfully passed down to each generation.

When the fairies had finished, they flew out of town, comforted by the sight of the Blue Hills and the dark monsoon clouds, the cedars out East and the sunset to the West.

With an extra flutter of their wings, fairy dust was blown back into town. It settled in the heart of each Grover Hill Girl, leaving behind a love of sagebrush and sandwashes; of football games and cookout fires; of boys who bail hay and go to church; of girls who you've known from first grade.

And last of all is the belief: That no matter how far you travel, no matter how long it's been; when you top Grover's Hill and look down into the valley-You know you are HOME.

So, to all of you who are from St. Johns, married someone from St. Johns, or have a bit of St. Johns in your heart: I love you and what you stand for. You are strength, courage and kindness in the face of difficulty. You stand for family, for friends and for God. You get back up when life gets you down. You help those who can't stand for themselves. And you do it with a smile and (because, well, we're from St. Johns) a little bit of sarcasm on your tongue. May you all see the wonderful gifts that are you.

Cade's first, and last football game

After surviving two-a-days, strep throat, and a mono scare, Cade was ready for the opening football game. It was in Thatcher and was billed as the "Public School State Championship". Thatcher had beat us last year, and expected a close game again. By the time kick-off arrived, I was slightly sick to my stomach. Yep, I get nervous watching my kids games. Heck, I get nervous watching college football on TV. But that's beside the point.
Cade took the opening kick off, didn't fumble (yep, I'm a pessimist too) and ran it back about 15 yards. The next play, he ran the ball up the middle and kept, running, and running and running. Sixty yards later, he had scored the first touchdown. At this point, I'm hyperventilating. Luckily, I settled down as the game progressed and was able to enjoy a wonderful first half of football.
At the beginning of the second half, we were up 21-0, and I finally got around to taking out my camera. I got this picture of the team lined up while the captains met in the middle. I didn't even get Cade in the shot. . .

The next shot, of the team huddled up before kick-off does include Cade. (#6)

Cade ran down the field in his usual Kamikaze manner looking for anyone to hit. Well, he found one. The biggest one. After the collision, Cade thought he had a stinger because he couldn't feel his arm, but still got back in the play to help with the tackle. When he got off the field, he tried to move his arm, but it wouldn't move. The next, and final football picture of Cade was after the trainer put his dislocated shoulder back in place. . .
She was great. She got the arm back in place really quickly, filled him full of drugs, wrapped him up and consulted me and Ryan. She was concerned that she may not have got it fully back in place, and he could have broken his collar bone as well. But, she didn't think he needed to go to the hospital that night, so we let him stay for the game and ride home on the bus. (Yes, that sounds like we are bad parents, but the bus has A LOT more room than our car). Plus he was so high on drugs that he had no idea that he was even hurt.

The next day, we took him in to the hospital where they checked him out and took X-rays. Luckily, nothing is broken, and his arm was in the right position. There is a big gap between the collar bone and the back of his shoulder, but I guess that is common with this injury. So, we have to get him an appointment with an orthopedic doctor this week in order to form a treatment plan. The ER doctors said he would be out for about six weeks. Coach Morgan thinks he should be back in half of that. Personally, I think I'll go with the Doctor. Cade will miss the two biggest games of the season-versus Round Valley and Show Low-for sure. But after that, we just have games against reservation schools, so there is no sense in coming back too early.

In the meantime, he is sore, achy and bored. But he is also one spoiled rotten boy. There has been a steady stream of phone calls and visitors at our house. He is going to be FAT before it is all over. He's had plates of cookies, candy bars, cinnamon rolls and even homemade tortillas. Syd was sick of all the attention at church and finally told someone not to bring anything to him, because he had enough. But if they wanted to bring it to her. . .

Truthfully, I am humbled and grateful by the outpouring of love and concern that people have shown him. From church leaders, to coaches, to his friends and their parents, people have gone out of their way to express their best wishes. Just one more reason I'm grateful for this little town of St. Johns.