If it was possible to punch a blog’s author through this mysterious channel called Internet, I feel like I would deserve that right about now. My apologies, people, for not getting this concluding entry up sooner. Although, my remorse comes under a wild assumption that my readers might have a cell phone alert connected to my blog updates that grants them immediate, yet momentary, relief from the constant suspense that consumes them between entries. Perhaps this does not describe you?
In any case, I can finally say that our season is finished. The deserving team won the championship, and so we walk away with second place. Okay, that might sound harsh. Of course we worked hard in preparation and we wanted to win, but I’m a big believer in the power of intangibles (especially when it comes to winning it ALL) and I feel we lacked too many to do so. It was unfortunate, though, that we lost like we did—in four sets, finishing the series early at 1-3. Fenerbahce fought and played very well, and as much as I despise losing, I feel glad for them, their club, and even their remarkable coach who apparently turned the team around after arriving mid-season.
Our line-up was different, as I saw probably less than five minutes total on the court (entering the court at the end of a few losing sets). I don’t know Beppe’s reasoning, and I don’t feel the need to ask. Nancy started instead and fought and played hard, and GoGo returned to the middle (after not even suiting up since the Besiktas matches) and played well; I’m so glad they both got to end that way.
I was able to realize my goal of finishing strong. Those words became sort of an anthem mixed with prayer throughout the match and the days leading up to it. In fact, it may have seemed comical to onlookers when at something like 13-23 (yeah, not good), I was bouncing around the court (having just entered it) giving fives, trying to be heard over the deafening Fenerbahce crowd “Keep fighting! Let’s find a way! ….Give me the ball!” I probably looked crazy. But I didn’t care—all I was focused on was finishing strong and fighting ‘til the end so that when God and I break down the match after, there is no pang of regret.
So we lost. And after enjoying a semi-awkward barbeque with everyone yesterday, we said our goodbyes. Despite the unfortunate ending for our very talented group, I was filled with such a joy and a thankfulness for these people and for my experience here.
In any case, I can finally say that our season is finished. The deserving team won the championship, and so we walk away with second place. Okay, that might sound harsh. Of course we worked hard in preparation and we wanted to win, but I’m a big believer in the power of intangibles (especially when it comes to winning it ALL) and I feel we lacked too many to do so. It was unfortunate, though, that we lost like we did—in four sets, finishing the series early at 1-3. Fenerbahce fought and played very well, and as much as I despise losing, I feel glad for them, their club, and even their remarkable coach who apparently turned the team around after arriving mid-season.
Our line-up was different, as I saw probably less than five minutes total on the court (entering the court at the end of a few losing sets). I don’t know Beppe’s reasoning, and I don’t feel the need to ask. Nancy started instead and fought and played hard, and GoGo returned to the middle (after not even suiting up since the Besiktas matches) and played well; I’m so glad they both got to end that way.
I was able to realize my goal of finishing strong. Those words became sort of an anthem mixed with prayer throughout the match and the days leading up to it. In fact, it may have seemed comical to onlookers when at something like 13-23 (yeah, not good), I was bouncing around the court (having just entered it) giving fives, trying to be heard over the deafening Fenerbahce crowd “Keep fighting! Let’s find a way! ….Give me the ball!” I probably looked crazy. But I didn’t care—all I was focused on was finishing strong and fighting ‘til the end so that when God and I break down the match after, there is no pang of regret.
So we lost. And after enjoying a semi-awkward barbeque with everyone yesterday, we said our goodbyes. Despite the unfortunate ending for our very talented group, I was filled with such a joy and a thankfulness for these people and for my experience here.
Yesterday my brother gave me the scale question—I hate the scale question. “From 1-10, how would you rate your experience?” This is torture for an over-analyzer like me, but I tried to be quick about it and threw out an 8. He was as shocked as I was! But ya know, I think an 8 is actually about right. I endured the usual, and very necessary, struggles with my game, with people, with faith, but I was also living in a great city with a great roommate, feeling like I gained and grew so much (not to mention, I got all my promised money…on time!).
The growth has come in many ways. One example is when I flooded five pages of my journal the other day with insight on who Tracy Stalls really is. How do I see myself? How do I think others see me? My good and my bad seems to be naming itself more clearly than ever before. So as I more clearly identify myself (as objectively as possible), I can choose to continue in certain ways or work to change. Oof. Sparing you on the details, let's just name that process as both exhilarating and really, really hard.
In an effort to balance out my way-too-introspective sessions on life lately, I have done things like indulge on sweet-a-licious Turkish foods now that “I can,” or I pay someone (two people actually—one held the brush, the other the blow dryer. No joke.) to straighten my hair. The best 25 lira I’ve spent in awhile! My hair is frizz-free and flat, reaching to my bum. And these geniuses did this to my-stylist’s-nightmare-of-a-mop in less than 45 minutes! Brilliant.
Packing has been an adventure. No sitting on the suitcases yet, but that’s only because I’ve ditched a lot of things like all my wilted socks and bulky coats. I won’t leave my books, though, and that is posing a problem in the weight category. Boo.
In an effort to balance out my way-too-introspective sessions on life lately, I have done things like indulge on sweet-a-licious Turkish foods now that “I can,” or I pay someone (two people actually—one held the brush, the other the blow dryer. No joke.) to straighten my hair. The best 25 lira I’ve spent in awhile! My hair is frizz-free and flat, reaching to my bum. And these geniuses did this to my-stylist’s-nightmare-of-a-mop in less than 45 minutes! Brilliant.
Packing has been an adventure. No sitting on the suitcases yet, but that’s only because I’ve ditched a lot of things like all my wilted socks and bulky coats. I won’t leave my books, though, and that is posing a problem in the weight category. Boo.
Overloaded bags and all, I am set to board for home very early Sunday morning and will arrive that same day (in actuality about 19 hours later) in Denver—woo hooo!! I can’t wait to hear familiar voices and soon hug and kiss the very missed faces. *sigh*
What is in front of me now is a rest with friends and family followed by a summer in California with the National Team. Beyond that, the ways are endless. But the only one I want for sure is the way God would have me go, even if that takes me away from the court and into a shack. I’m not worried or afraid of this unknown, because if there is one element of Himself God has consistently revealed to me, beaten into my soul (though, amazingly, I still need to be reminded at times) it is that He is faithful.
May I continue to discern who I am and who I want to be, and even more deeply, may I continue to know, really know my Love, my Savior—as if, as one of my favorite authors Donald Miller puts it, to see the lines on Jesus’ face.
Thanks for being a part of my Istanbul adventure—as readers, as encouragers, as prayer warriors, and as advisors. I certainly couldn’t have maxed this thing out without you all (you know who you are).
On with journey…this wild unpaved journey…
