Turning points

I will be the first to admit that I am addicted to the Olympics. Yes, I am a full-fledged Olympaholic. Of course the events that get me the most excited and compel me to stay up until all hours of the night are gymnastics (both men's and women's), equestrian, and swimming/diving (soccer and basketball to some extent, but I have mixed feelings about those given they have their own high-profile championships). But aside from those given must-watches, I have been known to sit in front of the television dedicatedly watching crew, badminton, cycling, track, and yes, even rhythmic gymnastics. 

I'm not quite sure why I'm so addicted to these events that I have no knowledge of and no investment in, but something about watching other people across the world pursuing the goal they have literally poured their entire lives into is addicting. While I was watching Nastia Liukin celebrate her all-around gold medal in disbelieving tears, I started thinking about what it would be like to be in her shoes, or Shawn Johnson's, or Michael Phelps'. I'm awed by their abilities and their dedication, and oftentimes I'm moved to tears by their successes or their failures.

As Nastia was focusing while preparing to mount the beam, her best hope for sealing the gold, one of the announcers said, "Imagine that feeling, to be staring at the thing that could literally change your life in the next two minutes." It's true - some of these athletes' futures are determined, to some extent, in one or two routines at this competition. Stay on the beam and nail your dismount, and you rocket to superstar status, which gives you a whole new realm of possibilities. Let a twitch of self-consciousness knock you off, and you join the hundreds of other Olympic would-be's. What an incredible, exhilarating, and utterly terrifying feeling to know that everything you have worked for comes down to this one moment - it's all or nothing. That is SO not normal. I found myself thinking, man, I'm glad I don't have to face that.

We know of course that many of these athletes go on to accomplish great things and become successful in all kinds of other arenas. But it made me wonder, how many times in our own lives do we build things up - decisions, events, relationships, jobs - to be deal-breakers, turning points? I know that I have a tendency to dramatically inflate the importance of certain decisions - if I go to this program, if I take this job, if I live in this city, it will change the course of my life. That brings with it great pressure and a lot of fear - fear of choosing the wrong thing, fear of not performing to my own standards, fear that if I choose one thing or do another, my life will take a different turn that can't be changed. 

When I live in this "make-or-break turning point" mentality, I realize that I lose the process, and that I miss things that might actually change the course of my life. Things like learning to trust, seek God's will in everything, really listen to where He might be pointing me. I'm starting to realize that life doesn't come down to turning points. While some decisions we make obviously have bigger impacts on the color and shape of our lives than others, those decisions don't determine the size or the quality of them. I'm starting to learn that I need to relish in the process of letting myself be guided and molded by the little things that happen, rather than trying to break the process down into independent increments and points on a timeline; oftentimes it's what happens in the middle of those timelines that's most important and most life-changing. 

I'm not quite sure where I'm going with this or if it even makes sense, but all I can say is that I don't think I could be an Olympic gymnast.