kneeling straight up

A grande latte, a small plate now spackled only in crumbs, and a view of sea gulls skimming the choppy ripples of the Bosphorus. Ahhh…. I would be outside also taking in the fresh air, but it’s still a bit too chilly for all that. Plus, there’s no plug for my computer (c’mon, it can’t all be romantic). Today is a day off, and the only thing I envision for it is sitting and typing and sipping.

It has definitely been a full week, beginning with our preparations for the important European Champions League match vs. the Polish team that took place on Wednesday. And guess what, people? We finished them off in three sets! I was expecting a raging battle, but they never really responded to us coming out strong at the start. So now at the end of March we will be going to Perugia, Italy for the European Final Four! This is a big deal, I am learning. Esra, for example, has been with Eczacibasi for five years and playing pro for about eight years total, and this is her first time to go. It has been seven years since Eczacibasi has been to the Final Four.

The other three teams will be Perugia (who received a free pass as the host), Dynamo from Russia, and Bergamo from Italy (who knocked off the previously undefeated favorite Italian team of Pezaro). [Be advised, I may have totally butchered every one of those names]. We face Dynamo in the first round. My heart races just thinking about it…

In celebration of meeting a big goal for the club, the Eczaci board hosted a catered dinner in our honor Thursday night. We got all fancied up, and each took turns speaking a few words. It really was a cool atmosphere—awkward at times, but not near as intimidating as it could have been. Many of the girls spoke about the unique family feel of the club—which, although it is still infiltrated with the usual politicking, really is a special dynamic for this club.

After the dinner, Esra and I went home. We were soon shouting and laughing and hitting each other as we watched Bergamo defeat Pezaro in a fantastic match—wanting Bergamo to win, of course. Then she asked me to help her answer some interview questions in English. She dictated her general ideas while I typed out the proper form. It was such a blessing—not only did I get to learn more about her and the development of Turkish volleyball, but such quality time enabled me to get outside of my own mind for awhile. And, boy, did I need that!

Also, watching that match taught me a lot about the level of the best in Europe. I saw the great plays, and I also saw the errors. The coach of Pezaro was from the Brazilian national team—the best of the best in the world. He actually even looked a lot like Beppe to me. Then I learned that Beppe, in fact, used to coach Bergamo and was very successful there.

All this caused me to pause. I saw, even more, how blessed I was to be at this club, in this city, with our top players, and under the leadership of Beppe. I have been so fortunate throughout my entire career to be led by the best in coaching, and Beppe is no exception. Even before I learned a bit of his background, he always impressed me in how he spoke about the game. He is very limited in his English vocabulary, but he does a fine job communicating what we need to do and how we need to think.

I watched talented middles from both teams get their jobs done. I watched how they moved laterally, how they handled broken plays, and their shot selection in various situations. They are talented, and they are professionals. But I also saw humans. I saw people with stories who make mistakes like serving out on two key set points or who blister a great shot one inch out of bounds. I saw myself out there, too—in the midst of such a battle, loving every nail-biting second, and wanting the ball when it’s all on the line. I do belong at this level. It’s taken me some time so far to settle in to my game here, but I believe my game does fit nicely into the groove of Europe’s top.

Yesterday, in fact, was a good and timely step towards feeling some of that groove. We had another Turkish League match, this time in Ankara, and I played well. I was light and focused, and I wasn’t trying to prove myself to anyone. My preparation didn’t differ so much from every other match I’ve played here, but I felt more primed—if that makes any sense.

I’ve been dealing a lot with where I stake my value. And so far I’ve discovered people’s opinions have been affecting my self-worth and confidence much more than I realized before. I knew what was true in terms of God being the meeter of my needs and finding me fully approved where I stand because of Jesus, but I wasn’t living out that belief. And not to say that I have arrived at the answer by any means, but my increased awareness is critical. It’s bringing out a rather quizzical posture of standing taller while on my knees.

So it is in that posture that I offer the often understated words, “Thank You.” And I offer them to my ever-present Father who is faithful to complete the work He has begun in me (Philippians 1:6). Like I told the board and my teammates that night at dinner, I am so thankful and honored and humbled to be a part of this journey. That although I sometimes feel like an imposter joining in mid-season, I couldn’t have asked for a better way to begin my pro career.

I must enjoy this. I may never have the chance to be among the best professional volleyballers in Europe at the prestigious Final Four. I may never be a part of a talented “family-like” club again. I may never have teammates as generous or a coach as patient again. I may even decide that I would rather write a book next season instead of play this game (don’t hold your breath). Point is, I must throw off all that hinders and all that robs my joy in this moment God so purposefully placed me (Hebrews 12:1). I will enjoy this, and I will continue to bring to it everything I have and everything that I am (and am becoming).

This Starbucks overlooking the water is now bustling with customers. Both levels are full, I’m sure. I am tucked away in a corner, quite comfortable and secluded. Unfortunately, though, my little nook has issues recognizing the free internet (yeah, FREE in a Starbucks—what a concept, right?). I mentioned this to a worker who had come to gather my crumby plate—thinking maybe the free wi-fi was too good to be true. We didn’t speak the same language, but he gestured understanding, poked around on my keyboard a little, and pointed upstairs. I just nodded and smiled, thinking maybe he meant that upstairs had better connectivity.

Instead, during the writing of this here blog, at least five different members of the Starbucks staff (each one having a progressing capacity to speak English) came to my aid about 10 times total. One even took my laptop on a mini tour of the shop trying to see if connectivity happened elsewhere. This, my friends, is service. The fact that I never got connected is a mute point compared to the efforts the green-aproned men made to make it happen. Turkish people pride themselves on their servanthood attitudes, and so far their actions have really backed that up—not including the terrifying rug spaz, of course.

This coming week we play for the Turkish Cup final against Fenerbahce at home on Wednesday. If we win, the girls are planning to go out dancing that night. Uh oh! Even if they dismiss me as having no dance skills whatsoever, they will see what it looks like to let the music move you!

On with the journey…