Training Camp

In the more than 20 years I've lived in Kansas City, I've never been to a Kansas City Chiefs football game. My kids have been to games; my neighbors have been to games; my friends have been to games ... I think my ex-husband even went to a couple of games when we were married. In fact, I've only been inside of Arrowhead Stadium one time ... when I took Brad and Meghann there to hear Billy Graham speak on his last preaching tour across the U.S. That was my one and only visit to the stadium until today when our entire office headed to the home of the Chiefs for a day-long training event ... training for us, that is, not the football players. The session was held in the press room overlooking the massive field below, and I must admit that it was pretty awesome to gaze out the giant windows that lined both sides of the room.

Today's training concerned setting goals, and I just assumed that the information the speaker would be delivering would have to do with work-related issues. But when one of the owners of our company stood to introduce the gal leading the training, he said today's class had nothing to do with work at all but rather was intended for our own personal growth and development. My first thought was, "Well, that's pretty cool," which pretty quickly shifted to me thinking, "Wait a minute ... did he say personal growth? Uh-oh ... what does that mean?" By the time the speaker began to talk, my palms were sweating and my gut was churning with panic over what sort of exercises might be involved in the training. Tears quickly joined my sweating palms and rolling stomach when the speaker asked if anyone knew the story of Rick and Dick Hoyt. I can't even count how many times I have shown the video of the father and son team competing in a triathlon together ... how many, many times I used the video when I was a speaker at Christian women's events.

I've attended other training events led by today's speaker, and she is a truly gifted presenter. But today when she instructed us to participate in an activity that included writing our own obituary, I learned that she also has quite the ability to read people as well. While the other gals at my table began to write in the notebooks that had been provided for us, I placed my pen and notebook on the table in front of me. I didn't need to write my obituary ... I did that last year, and it's locked away with my will and other important papers. I was so deep in thought that I didn't notice that the speaker had left the front of the room and walked to our table until she was standing next to me saying, "Opting out of participating?" I looked up and said quietly, "I wrote mine already." She then asked me to join her at the back of the room ... nothing like being called out by the teacher for flunking the first assignment of the day. When we were far enough away that other people couldn't hear us, she looked deeply into my eyes and said, "Tough subject matter?" I nodded and without thinking said, "It hits pretty close to home ... I was really close to checking out last year." She didn't miss a beat as she said, "Of your own accord?" Those stupid tears popped back into my eyes as I nodded my head yet again. Her voice was laced with kindness and compassion as she told me to only participate in what I felt comfortable with during the session and asked if we could do lunch together soon. I nodded as I struggled to subdue my emotions and turned to go back to my table. 

Tonight, my small notebook sits quietly on my kitchen table ... well, it's sitting there, but it's not being so very quiet ... it's actually screaming at me to pick it up and try again. I completed as many of the exercises as I could today, but there were more than a few that I simply couldn't do. As I sat there with the notebook before me and a pen in my hand, I kept thinking, "I'm a writer, for gosh sake's ... why can't I write a list of 20 things I'd like to accomplish?" And perhaps even more telling than my inability to complete that list was that when instructed to list things I have already accomplished in my life, this was my list ... Matt, Brad and Meghann. When she talked about writing a purpose statement and said the words, "This is why I'm here," my eyes filled with tears once again as I thought about something Brad has said repeatedly to me since we created the Ears Wide Open? video. "This is why you're here, Mom ... to be my mom and to tell your story so that it will help other people ... you were born for this."

The message the speaker delivered today about setting and reaching goals spoke to me on a very personal level. Each week, there is a goal set before me, an exercise to complete ... a means to the end of helping me learn to accept who I am. Some weeks, I embrace the challenge put before me with enthusiasm and gusto. Some weeks, not so much. And some weeks, my willingness and determination ebbs and flows from day to day. Today was definitely not a good day for me in attaining my weekly goal ... today, I failed miserably, which means there's no possible way I'll be able to meet my goal for the week. My goal that I was so certain on Monday I would not only achieve but surpass. I couldn't help but think as we drove away from the stadium that it probably wasn't an accident that our meeting was held in a building that overlooks a field where teams strive to reach a goal. The symbolism of today and the words of wisdom the speaker shared coursed through my heart and mind as I walked with Ollie in the cool night air ... symbolism I cannot ignore ... words I cannot dismiss ... goals and purposes and plans I cannot deny or delay any longer.

The speaker asked us to write our purpose statement on the last page of our notebooks and to begin with the words, "I am here to ..." Go ahead and ponder that for a while. I know I certainly am ... it's part of why my notebook is screaming at me. Yep, go ahead and ponder that for a good long while, friends ... a good long while indeed.