tuning in

One of the most difficult things to do when competing is learning how to tune out the extra noise and tune in to what my coach saying. Taekwondo tournaments are ridiculously loud arenas, with anywhere from 6-12 rings of competitors kicking and screaming, coaches yelling, fans cheering, announcements going over the speakers...it's pure madness. But somehow, in the midst of all that, you as a fighter are supposed to hear your coach, while you're maneuvering a 12x12 meter ring.

One of the most important aspects of coaching is gaining your player's trust so that they can recognize your voice, understand what you're saying, and execute the game plan in the moment. It's all about communication. But how is that communication transmitted? Over the years of both competing and coaching, the conclusion I've come to is that this trust is created and reinfoced in the quality of hours spent together, training hard, communicating well, and really understanding each other. As I look back, particuarly on the 2 years that I've been here in NYC with my coach(es), I see that there have been times I could hear him speak quietly, all the way across the ring when I wasn't looking at him - and there have been times when I could be standing a meter away staring at his face and not understand a thing. And these times coincided completely with the state of our relationship - how much we had trained, how much I believed he knew me, and how much I believed he really knew what was best and supported me.

For those times when our relationship was good - I had some of the best matches in my life. To go into a ring, even against someone who is bigger and perhaps even "better" - and to find yourself not just in auto-pilot, but in harmony with what your coach is saying - it's one of the most exhilirating feelings. Because suddenly, you're not just out there, fighting one-on-one. Yes, I'm the one in the ring, I'm the one putting my limbs out there, exerting energy and risking defeat - but it's almost like he's in there with me, and when that happens, I feel like I can beat anyone, no matter what the odds. Sometimes the opponent is easy, and I can figure them out on my own - my bread and butter techniques (ie. The things I do best) are all I need to win easily, and when he tells me to do them, of course I listen.

But sometimes he would tell me to do things that we hadn't exactly worked on, or things that I wasn't completely confident in. This is when it becomes apparent that trusting your coach is about believing that they know you and they know the situation better than you know it or can feel it - and forcing your body to do what may seem improbable or difficult with 100% confidence that it will succeed. Not 50%, not 80% - but 100%. In that split second between when he speaks and I act - particularly against someone formidable, which is often the situation - any hesitation at all will nullify the effort. I've lost many matches and missed many, many opportunities in those moments of hesitation. Even thinking about it now, I see my coach throwing his hands up and grabbing his head...

Someone asked me this weekend how I hear God, and how I know when He's telling me yes or no. My first response was "God closes doors". I mean, that's the most obvious way I've had decisions made for me, particularly post-college. However, when I think about it more, I realized that God may do that because of my inability to hear when He speaks subtly and quietly.

I think that's the difficult part about life - it's easy to trust God when everything makes sense and speaks loudly. But what does it look like to walk so closely with God that you can hear Him when He whispers - that you can obey Him when it doesn't make "sense"?

Perhaps life is meant to be this constant balance between certainty and uncertainty. After all, God's promises don't say that we'll ever know exactly what's going on - He just says that He'll be with us, that He has plans, and His plans are good. It sounds well and good when we read it - gives comfort, encouragement, confidence. Sure.

But what does it mean to really hold to that promise?

His wife said to him, "Are you still holding on to your integrity? Curse God and die!"

He replied, "You are talking like a foolish woman. Shall we accept good from God and not trouble?" In all this, Job did not sin in what he said.

Job 2:9-10

And in the end, I think that it's not so much a tangible direction - like forwards or upwards or however we tend to visualize it.

I think that the thing about following God is that more often than not - you don't know where you're going. I'm reminded that that's what faith is - trusting that even though you don't know - God knows. And if you really know the sound of His voice in the midst of the crowds, the opponents, and the other matches, and you're willing to trust that He sees more than you do - you can be at your best and come out on top.

God moves, you follow. Hold on to that integrity.