Right after moving down to Kingwood, I got an email from Peanut’s school searching for a volunteer to step up to be the head volleyball coach for the middle school girls. Now, I played volleyball for a long time, and I loved it. But coaching? Never.
Before I could really think about it too much, I figured I’d go ahead and go for it since I have more time than I ever have before (and may have again). And the thought of those girls not getting to play just hurt my heart.
And you know what I’ve loved about it? While I am trying to figure out how to coach rather than play, it’s been so good to try to remember the beginning.
When you’ve done something for years and years, it’s easy to forget the struggle at the start.
It’s easy to forget how it’s hard to make your body do what you know it should do. It’s easy to forget that the movements aren’t really instinctive, they must be learned. It’s easy to forget that it takes a lot of effort to remember the rules.
And in the middle of all this, a photographer I look up to immensely (as do THOUSANDS and THOUSANDS of other photographers) took a few seconds to leave a positive comment on an Instagram photo of mine.
And that right there, paired with my hours in the gym at volleyball practice, made me appreciate just how important it is to remember the beginning. But even more important than remembering is taking the time to reach back and help those who are in the thick of the start. To encourage them and pour into them – even if it’s in as few as two words.
And then maybe, someday down the line when they’ve grown out of their beginning, just maybe they’ll take the time to reach back too.