Lessons in Life Lessons (its a long one folks!)

Bryn is a gifted individual. Academically, socially, physically, the girl can do pretty much anything. She's helpful too, and funny. And she can read recipes and follow them.

Pretty amazing indeed.

Bryn decided upon our move to Texas that she wanted to become a gymnast. We signed up for classes and, no surprise to me at all, she was soon invited to try out for the team. She was -again no surprise to me-invited to join the team. She did. Mission accomplished, right?

Bryn began to work out often, and to apply her many physical gifts to her new found sport. She wisely chose to compete with the lower vs. the higher level, because she knew she could execute the lower level skills to perfection where as the higher level skills wouldn't be perfectly polished. And by chosing to compete at this level she has won meet after meet.

There is one thing to insert right here. Most of her meets were on Sunday. At least they were scheduled for then. With a brief explanation that we believe in the 10 commandments (one of which states that the SABBATH DAY is holy ie. not a day for leotards and scorecards at the gym...) most of the meet organizers allowed Bryn to compete on Saturday instead. This meant she went to the meets with the girls in the higher level, and she performed her routines and was judged for them based on her performance. What a blessing we felt, that she could learn that when she stood up for her beliefs (no sports on Sunday) a way would be made for things to turn out o.k.

Bryn has medals and ribbons dangling from her gym bag which testify of her superior skills. She was, of course, looking forward to the final competition of the year. The State championship meet.

It is this Sunday.

And no amount of begging or asking has persuaded the powers that be to allow our girl to strut her stuff on the day that was made for sport (namely; Saturday).

I broke the news to Bryn right after she came home from school. She sat on the bench in the garage and stared out into the sky as I explained our family's position on the matter.

-now I am going to interject something here-and I hope you'll forgive that I break up the story to record the thought process that took place within me...for I learned some lessons about teaching life lessons and I want Bryn to have my words when she is the mother some day, so here goes.

As a parent who loves her child, I have tried to teach correct principals to her. I've tried to point out the blessings that come when those certain principals are lived. I've tried to show compassion when those principals seem to be in conflict with the teachings or common practices of the world, but I've never felt inclined to apologize for those principals, because I know they are true.

But that doesn't make them easy to honor when the hard day comes to live them without reward.

The living of those principals is hard sometimes. And when those hard times come, I wonder to myself; is she doing what's right because I tell her and she is obedient? Or is she doing what's right because she knows for herself that its right? Has the principal become part of who she is? Or is she living it because she has to, just to get along with me?

And how do I give her whatever she needs to WANT to make the principal a part of her very self?

So now I'll return to the story...I left off with Bryn staring out into the sky as I tell her that visions of medals and ribbons have been dashed over Sunday competition schedules.

And Brynley, after curling up on the bench for just a minute or two says to me

"I want to go do my homework now".
And I fear.
Because here is the moment when I wanted her to say "I know its the right thing to do, even though it stinks". But that is not what I just heard. And I, being insecure in my life lesson teaching skills, prod a little further....

"could we talk about this a little more sweetheart? I'm sure you must feel dissapointed."

and really, she doesn't want to talk about it. She humors me, she sits back down, and eventually she politely opens up just enough to let me know she's not mad at me for laying down a standard she doesn't believe in. And I try to emotionally let her know that my heart goes out to her and I'm sure it seems unfair. And I try to uncover my fears to her, and I say something kind of like this;
"do you feel you've come to understand why we've chosen not to play sports on Sunday? 'Cause I know this would be so much harder for you if you felt we were taking something away from you that you would do if you could........."
and then she says these words;
"I know its right for me not to compete. I know for myself that its right.I want to go do my homework, k. mom?"
"sure honey, thanks for talking. Love you" I say

and my heart is a little relieved.

and I hope what she's revealed is the truth. And not just the smart and savvy in her saying just what her mom wants to hear...

but instead the warm assurance that the loss of the competition is not greater than the loss of a standard kept. A chance to stand up for what's right, even when that means standing alone, and standing in a place that won't bring her medals or ribbons or cheers from the crowd.

only a cheer from her mom. And from concourses of angels above, happy she's chosen right whether out of personal conviction or simple obedience.

Oh that she could hear them cheering.
Maybe that's why she stared at the sky...