Jolly hockey sticks!

This is posh me! Rarely spotted in public, timid and prone to flight when challenged! I'm not naturally a smart, sophisticated sort of female (much to my Mum's disappointment!), dressing up to go out is the opposite of a treat for me, I just feel out of sorts, uncomfortable and not me. I'm at my happiest in jogging bottoms or jeans and a tee-shirt! However, when looked at in relation to my life that is not altogether inappropriate.

Ben was scrolling through posts from the 2016 Olympics when he  came across pictures of the women's hockey team, we both remembered our increasing pride and excitement as our hugely talented ladies progressed through the tournament, we watched every match avidly and  I have to confess we both danced and cheered around our living room when they won the gold medal.

As a school girl (more decades ago than I choose to share) hockey was my sport, I loved it, I played for school and was hockey captain and I played for a local ladies team and a mixed hockey team, our school team even won the Cheshire Cup for the first time in sixty years while I was captain and my college team won the British Colleges tournament while I was there and playing. I was passionate about my sport and practised pretty much every day outside my house. 

When I was sixteen my P.E teacher. applied for me to go on a long weekend advanced hockey coaching camp at I.M. Marsh P.E. College in Liverpool.  I was simultaneously excited, thrilled and more than a little bit terrified. Firstly I travelled on my own (first time ever) then when I finally made my way down the hugely intimidating drive to the imposing main building and found my way to the registration point I discovered that I was the youngest on the course (by three years) as all the others were students at college, university or teaching in schools. Panic alert! I think nowadays what ensued would be described as a meltdown! I took myself off to the toilets and broke my heart.

Once I was able to breathe  without risk of imminent collapse I made my way to the lifts to find my room in the halls of residence. I did not ( and do not ) like lifts but my room was, if I remember correctly on the sixth floor, they were no ordinary lifts, they were door less and moved continuously, you had to leap in and out at the appropriate time unless you wanted to go up and down for eternity (always assuming you got in in the first place) The first night was not easy, pretty much everyone knew everyone, except me. I spent the evening sitting in proximity to but apart from the fun.

I strongly suspect that if mobile phones had been around then my Mum would have received multiple texts requesting (no, begging) that she got my Dad to come and take me home. Sadly, or happily, no such method of communication was available in those days. I was stuck there till Monday!

I have to confess that the weekend got better, once we got into the drills, passing, tackling and  shooting practices everything fell into place. I became part of the group, made friends, had the time of my life, loved every minute and didn't want to go home on Monday. We even had a seven aside tournament on the Sunday afternoon on the hottest day for a decade, and my team won!

Sometimes God sends us into situations that are at best daunting and at worst terrifying, He gently pushes us out of our comfort zones ( doesn't feel gentle I know) and into the place where all we can do is keep pressing on, step by timid step trusting He is there guiding, upholding, equipping and cheering. If we hold our nerve and stick it out it can turn out to be just what we needed, and a great experience.