It's not what I have[.] It's what I have to give. A blog about resources--gaining, giving, and sharing.

07 February 2011

Desire. Decide. Act. - pt. 1

8:14 PM Posted by steve flores , 1 comment
“Five seagulls are sitting on a dock. One of them decides to fly away.
How many seagulls are left?”
-Andy Andrews (from the book The Noticer)

[Matthew 6:24] This blog post will be in two parts.  I have a vivid memory of being in second grade, facing a decision to jump and the outcome of that jump could build up or crush my fragile, second grade ego.  Let me explain.

First grade ended with good-byes to all my friends in San Antonio, TX, because the Flores family was moving to Ganado, TX (yes, that’s a real town).  My father worked in retail.  An opening for advancement became available in Ganado, so he took it and we moved.  This would be the first of two consecutive moves we would make.  If you’ve ever moved between school years, you know what it’s like to face a new place with fear wondering if you’ll fit in and be accepted.  This is what the first day of second grade felt like for me.  Throw in a rainy morning, a muddy play ground, huge tractor tires to jump from, new school clothes, and you have the setting for the decision that changed my life.  Not really; it just helps to illustrate the passage found in Matthew.

During recess a lot of kids were jumping from tractor tire to tractor tire, but the last jump took precision, excellence, and a bit of mastery.  I stood back, watched, and analyzed each kid jumping from the final tractor tire to a chain-link fence.  They clung to it and climbed to safety.  Should a child not cling to the fence, he would fall into a mud pit below created by rain from that morning.  Not only did this jump take timing, but it also took strength.  Strength, something I lacked at that age.  My second grade body (and most of my teenage years) resembled a music stand – huge head, skinny body.  Although lacking confidence, I felt this was a mission I must accomplish for acceptance.  Driven by a trace of testosterone and the desire for acceptance, I hopped onto the first tractor tire and continued to jump from tire to tire until I reached the final one.  There I stood facing the fence.  Nervousness, anxiety, and fear gripped me; the line of kids behind me only added to the pressure.  I had three choices: jump, go back, or stay there.  I jumped.

To be continued...