I love honesty
Kind of a funny topic for a Friday night but I have a love for honesty that just. runs. deep. I believe in being honest. I believe that honesty works, that truth will set us free. And as difficult as it may seem sometimes to be honest, it really is, always, always, the best policy.
I learned young that honesty was just the best way to go. Fourth grade. Mrs. Beller's class. It all started with Spring softball sign ups. We grew up playing soccer in our family. My dad would coach. Saturdays were spent eating sliced oranges that looked like smiley faces and rotating soccer fields as we played and watched our siblings play the game. So when my friends at school started talking about softball, I was feeling a little left out. Softball? I wanted to fit in so bad but I was sure my parents wouldn't go for it. We could choose to play on one team a year and I had just finished my soccer season. I couldn't bring myself to ask their permission and it sounded too hard to me to risk NOT being "one of the girls," so........I lied. Yes, I had signed up for softball. The questions from my friends kept coming. What team am I on? Oh goodness. Um, I don't remember the name. I think it starts with a G. You've heard of the Grizzlies? Yes, the Grizzlies. That's right. That's the team I'm on. What position do I play?....uhhhhhh.......Pitcher?!....(the only position I knew the name of). This went on for weeks and weeks. I dreaded going to school. At recess all the girls ever wanted to do was practice softball. I was supposed to be able to pitch a softball. I was supposed to be able to catch a softball. I was even supposed to be able to hit a softball. I did my best at pretending but I didn't have experience with any of it! This was a dreadful time of my life. I was trapped in this web of lies and I'll tell you, I NEVER want to go there again. Ever. Horrible, yucky, yucky feelings come from living this way. One lie led to another that led to another until the day, such a vivid day in my memory, the day that THE phone call came... to my mom. The Grizzlies were scheduled to play my friend Tara's team that afternoon. Remember, I was a Grizzly. So when Tara's mom had to work, she just called my mom to see if we could swing by and pick her up for the game.
It was over. I had been found out.
I told my mom the whole, terrible story, sobbing the entire time. That very afternoon she had me call every single one of my friends that I had led to believe that I played softball so I could apologize and tell them the truth. That was SO hard. And it must have been just as hard for her to watch me be so embarrassed, but I'm grateful she was willing to do that hard thing for me. Rather than excusing my little nine year old storytelling as child's play, she allowed me to grow by letting me feel some of the consequences of my choices. This experience changed me. It taught me a lesson about lying and honesty and truth and became a part of who I am. I am a lover of the freedom of honesty. I am a lover of the goodness of truth. Oh, and just for the record, I am NOT a lover of Softball.
I've played lots of different sports over the years now, and do a decent job at making contact with the ball in just about every sport, except.....you got it, softball. To this day I can't hit a ball with a bat. Weird, huh?
I learned young that honesty was just the best way to go. Fourth grade. Mrs. Beller's class. It all started with Spring softball sign ups. We grew up playing soccer in our family. My dad would coach. Saturdays were spent eating sliced oranges that looked like smiley faces and rotating soccer fields as we played and watched our siblings play the game. So when my friends at school started talking about softball, I was feeling a little left out. Softball? I wanted to fit in so bad but I was sure my parents wouldn't go for it. We could choose to play on one team a year and I had just finished my soccer season. I couldn't bring myself to ask their permission and it sounded too hard to me to risk NOT being "one of the girls," so........I lied. Yes, I had signed up for softball. The questions from my friends kept coming. What team am I on? Oh goodness. Um, I don't remember the name. I think it starts with a G. You've heard of the Grizzlies? Yes, the Grizzlies. That's right. That's the team I'm on. What position do I play?....uhhhhhh.......Pitcher?!....(the only position I knew the name of). This went on for weeks and weeks. I dreaded going to school. At recess all the girls ever wanted to do was practice softball. I was supposed to be able to pitch a softball. I was supposed to be able to catch a softball. I was even supposed to be able to hit a softball. I did my best at pretending but I didn't have experience with any of it! This was a dreadful time of my life. I was trapped in this web of lies and I'll tell you, I NEVER want to go there again. Ever. Horrible, yucky, yucky feelings come from living this way. One lie led to another that led to another until the day, such a vivid day in my memory, the day that THE phone call came... to my mom. The Grizzlies were scheduled to play my friend Tara's team that afternoon. Remember, I was a Grizzly. So when Tara's mom had to work, she just called my mom to see if we could swing by and pick her up for the game.
It was over. I had been found out.
I told my mom the whole, terrible story, sobbing the entire time. That very afternoon she had me call every single one of my friends that I had led to believe that I played softball so I could apologize and tell them the truth. That was SO hard. And it must have been just as hard for her to watch me be so embarrassed, but I'm grateful she was willing to do that hard thing for me. Rather than excusing my little nine year old storytelling as child's play, she allowed me to grow by letting me feel some of the consequences of my choices. This experience changed me. It taught me a lesson about lying and honesty and truth and became a part of who I am. I am a lover of the freedom of honesty. I am a lover of the goodness of truth. Oh, and just for the record, I am NOT a lover of Softball.
I've played lots of different sports over the years now, and do a decent job at making contact with the ball in just about every sport, except.....you got it, softball. To this day I can't hit a ball with a bat. Weird, huh?
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