My Lesson From Vin Scully

I've never met Vin Scully, but he taught me a powerful lesson.

I read on a friend's post that Vin Scully announced his last LA Dodger game tonight. Somehow, though I'm obviously not a huge Dodger fan, that announcement made me sad. Sad, perhaps because its the end of an era. Sad perhaps because it's the end of a voice I've known all my life.

I grew up listening to Dodger baseball. In numerous car rides up and down the Grapevine visiting family in Los Angeles I'd "watch" Dodger games play out in my mind's eye listening to Vin bring the plays to life. Oh, to be honest, my dad tended to turn the game on as we all were getting sleepy and he needed to stay awake. Though I tended to fall asleep dreaming of baseball just a few innings into the game (thanks Dad), I learned how to follow baseball by listening to Vin's voice.

A few years ago I read a fascinating article on how Vin got his start. The article stated that back in 1949, when Vin was just getting started in his broadcasting career, before he even began working with the (at the time) Brooklyn Dodgers, his sports director gave him a piece of advice that would guarantee his success. His advice? Never listen to other announcers.

Never listen to other announcers.

I was moved when I read the advice. The sports director was telling Vin to fight to remain unique. Don't try to fit in or sound like the other guys - in fact, don't even listen to them in the off-chance they're techniques or style rubs off on you and you abandon the uniqueness of being you! 

This advice is so contrary to advice we are given today. I look at my own life and recognize the many times I try to live up to other people's expectations of me or be someone I am not. 

Why is it so difficult to be comfortable in our own skin?

How strikingly different would my life be today if I had a 'sports director' encouraging me to not pay attention to the players around me, just focus on being me. Focus on being the best- the only Connie Marie Morgan Nicholson I can be. The gravity of that statement is huge. If we could only grasp the uniqueness of each of our gifts, talents, callings we might catch a glimpse at how much our world is loosing when we try to be someone other than our own true self.

I know at the end of my life, God is not going to ask me, "How well did you live your life like (fill in the blank)?" He's not going to compare my life with someone else's life or even compare my reactions to other people's reactions. He knows I am unique - as are you. He put me on the earth at this time, as this person, in this family, with my giftings and skills on purpose. God knew 100% what he was doing and nothing about me is an accident.

People may disagree with me. People may think I'm crazy. But at the end of the day, God doesn't call me to explain myself or even to please people - He just wants me to be Connie, in all my messy uniqueness and beautiful flaws.

I want to live my life like Vin Scully. Not to broadcast baseball - obviously that would not turn out well! But I want to live my life in full surrender of who God has created me to be. Comfortable with my voice, my body, my thoughts and my experiences. Not putting on a facade to be someone I am not. But instead fully comfortable and confident to be me - Simply Connie.

Coolness of the Morning

I walked outside to feed Ranger (my dog) this morning and was greeted by cool air.

The plants in the garden that have survived the summer torment were resting in the cool of the morning. My four rabbits who withstood the extreme heat of summer were breathing more calm. The air outside gave a sigh of relief.

The seasonal change is beginning.

I echo the relief of my plants and rabbits - I also didn't know if I would make it through the summer heat. My life endured a full-scale assault at every angle: core family, extended family, my neighborhood, my health and my work. There were days when I would wake up before the cruel rays of the summer sun to find moments of silence before the demands of my situations bore down on me.

I found myself looking for Jesus. "Jesus," I would cry, "Where are you? I can't do this without you." With the demands closing in around me I felt like a hiker lost in a grove of sequoias. I could not see the sun. My path grew dark because the light could no longer penetrate the branches of the magnificent trees. My path had led me to this place, but I could not see where it continued.

In the darkness I cried.

I wasn't angry. I wasn't afraid. I just wanted Jesus.

"Jesus," I would cry out the next morning, "Where are you? I can't do this without you."

As my summer trudged on I recognized I cannot sit in this dark place. I must actively search, chop down trees if I have to, in order to get my focus back on Jesus.

My times of quiet became times of reading my Bible. Reminding myself who I was in Christ, reminding me of His Truths that I am never alone, He will not abandon me, He is working for my good. In my isolation, Jesus met me and pointed the way, showed me how to pull apart the trees to find the way to go. Though I felt alone- I knew I was never alone.

Day-by-day I struggled. Day-by-day I dragged myself out of my dark place and put myself on my Rock and worked at pushing the trees off my path. As huge and important as each tree was, nothing (AND I MEAN NOTHING) has the right to take my focus off my Savior. Every morning it was a battle to move the trees- again - and get my feet back on the right path.

As the cool greeted me this morning, I felt God's quiet still small voice say, "you made it."

In that quiet whisper I felt my shoulders relax, I took in a deep breath, and found shalom in the stillness of the cool morning.

The road before me is no less periling than before, but God's peace that transcends all my understanding is with me. My Savior, my friend is with me in my greatest hour of need and I am filled with thanksgiving.

Thank you, Jesus, for walking this dark road with me. Thank you for keeping me company even when I felt alone, teaching me how to move the trees that were crowding in on me and helping me find my way out of the forest.

When I came in from feeding my dog, I picked up The Message and read Psalm 23:

"God, my shepherd! I don't need a thing. You have bedded me down in lush meadows, you find me quiet pools to drink from. True to your word, you let me catch my breath and send me in the right direction. Even when the way goes through Death Valley, I'm not afraid when you walk at my side. Your trusty shepherd's crook makes me feels secure." Psalm 23 The Message

Whatever forest you may find yourself, call out to Jesus. He is by your side and waiting to give you strength, point your way and help you out.

May God's peace be with you as you experience the coolness of the new season approaching!
Connie