I believe in the power of you and I by Lynn J Simpson

I must admit when it comes to the Olympics, I am so, well, Canadian. I love everything winter. And I take no offense when our friends to the south use the main descriptive of 'cold' when asked to describe our country, as without the cold climate we would have missed out on so many warm Olympic stories, some of them happening on our native land.  

But it isn't when the athlete waves his/her ski pole in victory, or gives a hug to a team mate after a winning goal, or drops to his/her knees after an almost flawless figure skating performance that heats my heart during the winter Olympics. Instead, it is the story behind the victory, or even the loss.

Who can ever forget the story of the Jamaican Bobsled Team of the Calgary 1988 winter Olympics? Or how about Eddie the Eagle, the first ski jump competitor since 1929 from Great Britain who also competed in those memorable 1988 Olympic Games? Yes, they did not win in their sport, but were the absolute crowd favorite!

A crowd favorite were these athletes because they had stories with the elements needed in all good stories to make it a story. There were dreams, there were obstacles to achieving those dreams, conflicts and adversity, rising action, and unexpected outcomes that left the observers satisfied and cheering! Even Hollywood thought so, with the makings of the movies Cool Runnings (1993) and Eddie The Eagle (2016).

But my favorite Olympic story has not been made into a movie (not yet anyways), however has all of the elements of a good story, and maybe even more. It is the tale of two brothers. A brother who dropped his love of playing hockey for skiing so he could play in a sport that his brother who has cerebral palsy, could play as well, together as a family. A brother whose brother was told he would only walk until 10 years old, but at 28 was still walking. A brother whose big brother with obstacles much larger than his own was his biggest determination to keep him on track with all the training required to be an Olympic athlete.

A brother who believed in him, always, and was the power behind his winning the Olympic Gold for Canada in Men's Freestyle Skiing, in Vancouver, 2010.

 And, I'd say, a brother, who after his winning Olympic performance, gave a hug to his brother that warmed up all of cold Canada and beyond.

May you take a moment and watch, letting the warmth of a Canadian story heat your heart.

Alex Bilodeau Wins Gold- I believe in the power of you and I

The Difference Makers

For the Love of Writing! By Alan Anderson

James 1:17 (NIV) “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”

"I believe that God made me for a purpose. But He also made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure.”  This is a line from the film “Chariots of Fire”.  James Liddell is talking to his sister about his purpose.  He knows that God wants him to be a missionary.  He is also convinced God made him a runner.

I have always loved running.  When I was a younger guy in high school I loved track.  I’m not saying I was a great runner.  I never had coaches courting me because they thought I was a top athlete.  I never came close to breaking a record or won a medal.  I just loved to run.  No one gives you a medal for your love of a sport.

In my younger years I would envy those who were recognized for their outstanding skills.  I knew other young people who were really talented runners.  I loved to run and knew I couldn’t keep up with the great ones.  They always outdistanced me.  I ran anyway.

What was it about running I loved?  I believed running was something that gave me pleasure.  During those years I wasn’t aware I could give God pleasure.  Especially when it came to long distance or cross-country running there was a sense of freedom.  There was always someone to compete against as well.  If I was running a three-mile cross-country race my main goal was to finish.  The runs could be grueling and painful.  I never quit however.

I approach my writing like I did my running.  I can’t keep up with the great writers but I still love it.  For all the pain it can be to write I love it.  I love words and what writers do with them.  I love the words that come to me.  In my stories I feel God’s pleasure!

I love the letters that make up the words that help me write my stories.  Every letter has its place and is so unique.  I love how some letters are straight and some have curls.  Don’t you just love the little curls of the letter “e” and “s”?  Those tricky guys we know as “m” and “w” can almost imitate each other when they are upside down.  That’s so funny!

As writers we get to play with words.  That is such fun!  As writers we also get to nurture words so they know exactly how they can live with others.  This nurturing results in our stories, our plays, poems, etc.  The pain or struggle involved in writing is worth it.

When I was a young guy who loved to run I was wise enough to know I needed a coach.  I’ve always thought that the men I had as coaches realized I would never be an Olympic star.  They encouraged me anyway.  I thank them for that.

As a writer I am aware I need coaching.  I have the honour to be writing with some accomplished writers.  They are some of my favourite teachers (coaches).  I receive critiques from them and take to heart what they suggest.  It’s awesome!  I’m over sixty and still learning a wonderful craft.  Just like when I would train as a runner I am in training as a writer.  It is all for the love of writing!

Blog: ScarredJoy@wordpress.com

Athletic wear doesn't make one an Athlete! by Jocelyn Faire

Most of the Olympics have passed me by, the summer has been busy, this August long weekend I hosted three sisters, a niece and her three children. My niece used my smart TV to play DVDs for her children … and somehow the settings were not returned to my normal.  And I feel not so smart. Aaaagh … I would come in last for the Olympic technology challenge. 

But what an epic adventure of laughter, and bubbles, and parachute men dropped over the balcony, more laughter and great food for our motley crew between my house and the Canmore, Alberta folk festival. And in it all I was reminded of the Olympic sized challenges that my niece and her ten year old daughter face each day of life.

(In the winner's circle!)

Multitudes of prayers had been spoken for Maya prior to her birth, when her parents were informed that their daughter had a rare syndrome, and would be born with numerous life challenging difficulties. She has had at least 40 surgeries, the first one before she was a week old. She has spent months of her life in hospital, and even now the doctors are waiting for her to grow stronger in order for her scoliosis to be corrected. Many of us have wondered if the Psalm 139 verses about being fearfully and wonderfully knit in her mother's womb have missed the mark. And yet according to her Grandmother, Maya is a girl with a special connection to Jesus. When I had the privilege to tuck the three little ones into bed, Maya asked if she could read from her bible. My heart breaks for this girl who is becoming increasingly aware of how different she is than the others. She will never run any competitive races. She has never had a normal bowel movement, as the colostomy bag takes care of that business for her. In the playground while her 4 year old brother ran up and down the boards three times, Maya carefully placed one hand and then a foot down in order to ascend. I cheered heartily as she reached the top. 

We speak of all the hard work and determination that goes into producing an Olympic athlete. We stand in awe giving credit to those who have laboured intensely. I stood in awe of this little girl and her family carving out some sense of normal in a precarious health balance.

What was heart warming was to hear Maya speak to herself in the mirror, while wearing her Epic T-shirt. She would say "I feel epic" over and over, making all of us smile. It's a great thing to see that when we repeat these words, we do become more epic.  Epic is defined as "heroic or grand in scale or character."  As we speak Olympic sized dreams into place, we become more of what we speak.  May we all feel epic, and help those around us to achieve a sense of epic in their own lives.


Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honour Romans 12:10(ESV)

Olympic-Size Gift - Joylene M. Bailey

photo by pixabay

My favourite part of the Olympic games is when the camera focuses in on the parents in the stands as they watch their child compete.  You see every emotion play across their faces.

Confidence

Apprehension

Hope

Anguish

Joy

Love

Pride

You can almost see the years of toil and reassurance, ups and downs they have gone through as they encouraged their growing athlete.  

21 year old Canadian, Andre De Grasse, in his first Olympic games ever, has become the first Canadian to triple medal in the 100-metre, 200-metre and 4×100-metre relay at an Olympics. After he crossed the finish line to win bronze for the 100 metre sprint, I watched him search the stands for the one person who mattered – his mom. She pushed and squeezed past people to make her way to the sidelines where she could embrace him, while a commentator noted, “His mom has said, she knew he was fast from the time he was little.”

That’s the thing about parents. We see our children grow and develop. We learn where their talents lie, and then we find opportunities and experiences that will hone the talent and grow the skill, so the child can grow up and do well.

But it takes lots and lots of hard work and practice, on the part of the child, to make a skill Olympic-sized, big enough to be noticed.

When Andre De Grasse’s sprinting started getting noticed, he began getting bombarded with agents and coaches who wanted to work with him. Andre says, “A lot of people were in my ear, telling me this, telling me that. I really just wanted to listen to only one person and that was my mom.”

In the end, the agent who finally signed with him had to go through his mom, Beverley, to do so.

Meanwhile, Beverley was telling her son,

“You got talent.”

“Don’t take yourself too seriously.”

“Just go out there and do your best.”

It got me thinking about my Heavenly Father.

How he has known, from before I was born, where my skills and talents lie.

How he has put opportunities and experiences in my life to help me learn and grow in those areas.

How I need to listen to His voice only.

How he has watched me try and fail, try and succeed, practice, practice, practice, all the while cheering me on and encouraging me to keep at it.

Saying, “You got talent.”

“Go out there and do your best.”

“I delight in you.”

“You are precious in my sight.”

And I wonder, if I could see His face as I go out there and do my thing, would I see Anguish, Joy, Love, Pride?

Would it be all about winning a medal for Him?

When Beverley De Grasse was asked if she saw a world-class sprinter when she watched her son race, she said, “I just see my son, Andre, … even if he … didn’t medal, he’d still be my son. I’ll still feel the same way about him.”

No. In the moment it may seem like it’s all about winning the medal, but it’s not.

It’s about honing the craft,

practicing it,

working it,

using the amazing Olympic size gift we’ve been given, for His glory.

Because in the end, it’s not just about who you are.

It’s about Whose you are.

Joy hones, practices, and works her craft at home in Edmonton, where she will be empty nesting with her husband for one more week before Babe & her cat move back to fill up some empty spaces. 

Find her at Scraps of Joy.