Fires of Sorrow

Fires of Sorrow

Day 6:

Countdown 115 Days

My workout happened later in the evening, and I wanted to write RIGHT afterwards, almost as a confirmation that I had indeed done what I had set out to do, but a blank word document is like approaching a blank canvas on command, rather than when inspired and desiring it! I like inspirational quotes, or a thought to muse on so prior to writing this I read an excerpt from a book called “My Utmost for His Highest”. The book is organized by month and day, and today’s headline for June 25 is titled,

“Receiving One’s Self in the Fires of Sorrow”.

I read the excerpt 3 TIMES, before I felt like I was partially understanding what the writer was intending to expound upon. I took a break and decided to write instead, and through writing the meaning worked itself into my experience.


My softball game got cancelled tonight because of rain. If anyone is reading this and doesn’t know, I HESITANTLY joined a league in my town for women over thirty. In high school and a bit of college I LOVED PLAYING SOFTBALL! There is so much good that comes out of being on a team, working together as a group, all the while working on your own individual strengths and abilities. I haven’t played on a team in over 12 years! Our first scrimmage was a whirlwind in my mind. It was the first time I had met everyone and we went right into a game. To me I felt like I was in the Olympics and I had to win, all to discover the only thing that was fast and strong was my mind…my body wasn’t quite yet there. Although a few good plays were made, I wasn’t satisfied.

Yelling to my kid from the sidelines during his baseball games,

to ‘RUN IT OUT’, or


Soon MUCH easier than being the object of said YELLS!

Now as the player,


(sorry kid, but it will only make you better!)

Each time up to bat I want to CRACK IT,

to sometimes get turned BACK to the bench after hearing the dreaded call of


At my last game I had two pretty disturbing errors, at third I had a FAST grounder go right under my glove, but what’s worse is I thought it was in it! My hand even went to grab the invisible ball in an attempt to make the out at first, when…CRAP, it’s 25 feet BEHIND ME! And then the time at second when a perfectly placed pop up dropped slowly down right where the dirt meets the grass, followed by a faith filled scream of


all the while my mind is on repeat silently screaming


Yes!!! I caught it,

but DAMMIT, I dropped it.

To top that error off I only added more glory to it by making a short wobbly throw


(bad practice, don’t do this!)

to first, with an intense, remorseful and deep sounding GROOOWWWLLL as no outs were made along with the SILENT sighs from your team for such a job well…


Yeah…so softball in your thirties..It’s challenging.

So it got me thinking. Reflecting back on the days when softball was a part of my life, and I found that I still wrestled with those same challenges, the same let downs, the same feelings of not wanting to let DOWN THE TEAM! But then I remembered how great it was to BE A TEAM, to encourage each other, even to HIGH FIVE… as lame as that sounds! I remembered how I felt when I ‘made the play’, or the sound the bat makes when it connects to the ball. It just FEELS GOOD and body instinctively books it with fast feet uncertain where the ball went, but assured that it SOARED.

I LOVED THE GAME, and I’m remembering now, years later…


I’m so glad I was encouraged to join this team. I needed to. It’s been motivating me to get stronger, to practice, to rehearse the game…because I got rusty!

Needless to say, I’m relieved the game was cancelled today! Wedding festivities took over our Sunday, and it was a LATE night, so “MY BEST SELF” would probably not have been so great on the field!

These are the little things in my life that I’m noticing are the big things as I had mentioned in a previous post. Working through my daily experiences helps me to cope with mistakes and failures, to learn from them, and move on.

Processing my day, MY LIFE, is a GREAT TEACHING TOOL , no matter how small or big it is, no matter how significant or insignificant a day may seem…there is always a lesson to be learned, a box to STEP outside of, a way to accept myself in the fire of sorrow.

Until tomorrow…

I’m still running my race.