The Warriors

I asked Cole a few months ago if he wanted to play flag football this fall and he said yes, so I present my little Warrior:

 

His team is pretty good.  They've won most of their games and have a fun time together.  Cole seems to like it and is getting pretty good at pulling flags.  He does not like it when he is held while trying to get to the other team (which is pretty much every play - they don't call it yet), so Dad taught him a couple of defense techniques - "dip and rip" and "swimming."  He smiles awfully big when he pulls a flag.

He and Annie are also playing soccer this fall plus Annie is in dance.

And me?  I'm just jealous.  For some reason, watching them in all their activities has made me rather introspective.  I love watching them use their bodies and develop talents.

A few years ago, my church calling was to be the Temple Prep Instructor.  I really liked teaching the class and preparing for the lessons.  Every time I taught the course, we would discuss the need of a physical body for temple ordinances to be completed.  I'm not an expert on the doctrine about why we need a body for these ordinances, but I was always touched by feelings of gratitude for the opportunity to have a body when we would discuss this. This gratitude is probably what has stayed with me the most from that calling.

 

As I've watched my children play and participate, I've been so grateful they have opportunities to use their bodies.  I'm sure they don't yet appreciate what a joy it is to have a healthy and able body because that's all they've ever known.  My kids won't be making a career out of sports, but I keep them involved because as part of their experiences in this life, I want them to feel the joy that comes from kicking a ball that ripples through soccer net, from catching a winning touchdown pass, and from dancing in perfect rhythm.  I want them to know the exhaustive exhilaration that comes from running up a mountain and the private pride that comes from blocking an opponent's spike and yes, even the sting of defeat.

I want them to have a chance to try it all.

Swimming.
Dancing.
Soccer.
Football.
Running.
Biking.
Basketball.
Hula Hooping.
Volleyball.
Hiking.
Twirling a Baton.
Tumbling.
Tennis.
Jump Roping.
Ice Skating.

 

Who knows what they'll love.  I loved football and soccer and volleyball and running.  I wasn't coordinated enough for basketball, I was a terrible swimmer, and I wasn't a very graceful dancer.  I can still out-hula hoop everyone I meet and I'm a pretty good jump roper.  My kids will probably have different loves and different talents - Cole is a fish and Annie is a graceful dancer.   

I think a lot about my body and how grateful I am for my health. I have a friend whose husband was paralyzed one year after they were married.  It's bittersweet to look at their wedding pictures and see him standing tall and proud.  I wonder what he misses most now that his life is lived in a wheelchair.  I wonder what it will be like when I die and my body is separated from my spirit.  I think I will be anxious for the resurrection when all things will be restored. I think about Satan and his followers and how I can best make them jealous of my body.  It's probably not by sitting on the computer all day or playing video games.  I hope they see me when I reach the top of the pass and feel regret that they will never know that feeling.  I hope Heavenly Father sees me too and sees that I love the body He has given me and try to honor this gift by taking good care of it.

  

 When I look at sweet little Molly, I'm amazed by the things her body has already learned to do.  All of my children are in the spring of life and are just discovering what their bodies are capable of doing.   I remember my Grandpa Johnson who loved nothing more than to hike through the Tetons with a group of scouts or take his grandchildren backpacking through Yellowstone.  He spent years bedridden before his death. I hope he remembered fondly the things he used to do while he was in the winter of life.

I miss being a kid.  I miss playing kickball at recess.  I miss running across the playground equipment.   I miss doing flips off the top of our swing set.  I miss all the teams I used to play on.  I miss swinging my toes up to the clouds.  I miss climbing trees.  I miss pretending I was an Olympian.  I miss hearing my name called after I crossed the finish line of the track.  I miss being able to make it all the way across the monkey bars (Have you tried those lately?  So.Hard.).   I wish I could go back and tell that little girl to run faster and kick harder and climb higher. Life gets busy and there aren't many chances for me to do a lot of the things I used to love.

  

Instead, I'll be sure my children have the chance to try it all and I'll just keep on running for as long as I can.