Life on the Bench.

A memory from High School has surfaced a few times over the last year or so. I played basketball my sophomore, junior and senior years. The first two seasons were as part of my high school's team and then for my last season, we combined with the neighboring town due to numbers. My first two seasons where good. I am a very average player, but I was blessed with coaches who played everyone no matter what their level of ability. What they asked of us as players was to show up at practices and games and play and work as hard as we could; to give our best. In return, they made sure every team member had playing time. Did I play every game? No, but almost every game.

My senior season was very different. Because of the two schools being combined, the number of fantastic players rose. Did I expect to play every game? No, however, I did think I would play in more games then I did. I cannot remember the number of games I did play, but I can safely say you could count them on one hand and not use up all your fingers. My friend Barbie and I (yes, that is her name) were Bench Warming Buddies. I think I even remember Barbie doing her homework on the bench once! We went to all the practices (many times we had two a day), we were expected to put in the work, and we would get suited up for the game. I even had to have my ankles wrapped before each. Then we would sit. It got so bad/funny that at one point our friends/fans started yelling at our coach to put us in! I loved those guys!! ;) I do remember one game that I was allowed to play. I went down the court, got the ball and made a basket! Thank you very much! I am not real sure, but I think as I ran past my coach, I either stuck my tongue out or bowed....he laughed. (I have matured a little since then!) But I digress.

Why do I bring this up? Whether because of choices I have made, or the Lord ordering my steps, right now I feel like I have been left on the Bench of Life. I have been expected to put in the effort, to put in the work and I have even tried to have a good attitude, but I still sit. I watch people come off the bench and get put in and I try not to be envious (I fail sometimes.) Believe me, I know the "right" way of looking at this, the "christian" way to look at this. Right now, I'm just choosing to be ticked. Tired and ticked; maybe sad is a better word. I am way at the end of the bench and my shoulders are slumped. I just wish it was my turn. Maybe I'm not ready, I don't know.....

I Really Love My First Name!

Now don't get me wrong, I love my last name too. It is an awesome icebreaker ("Heather What?") and it has given my friends (especially my college buddies) HOURS of entertainment. They try to out do each other with their own creative takes on my name. Some of my personal favorites: Slapcattle, Flipfaddle, Flopdiddle, SappyClappy, Clapperbajooble....you get the point.

I am 1/2 German, 1/4 Swedish and 1/4 Scottish. I get my first name from the Scottish side of the family. For those of you culturally challenged, Heather is a flowering bush found mainly in the UK, but is really known for its covering of Scotland's Highlands. While doing some research on my namesake, I came across this folklore about the Heather. I love this! It just resonates in me, so I thought I would share it with you. Enjoy!

When God first made the world, He looked at the bare and barren hillsides and thought how nice it would be to cover them with some kind of beautiful tree or flower. So he turned to the Giant Oak, the biggest and strongest of all of the trees he had made, and asked him if he would be willing to go up to the bare hills to help make them look more attractive. But the oak explained that he needed a good depth of soil in order to grow and that the hillsides would be far too rocky for him to take root.

So God left the oak tree and turned to the honeysuckle with its lovely yellow flower and beautiful sweet fragrance. He asked the honeysuckle if she would care to grow on the hillsides and spread her beauty and fragrance amongst the barren slopes. But the honeysuckle explained that she needed a wall or a fence or even another plant to grow against, and for that reason, it would be quite impossible for her to grow in the hills.

So God then turned to one of the sweetest and most beautiful of all the flowers - the rose. God asked the rose if she would care to grace the rugged highlands with her splendour. But the rose explained that the wind and the rain and the cold on the hills would destroy her, and so she would not be able to grow on the hills.
Disappointed with the oak, the honeysuckle and the rose, God turned away. At length, he came across a small, low lying, green shrub with a flower of tiny petals -some purple and some white. It was a heather.
God asked the heather the same question that he’d asked the others. "Will you go and grow upon the hillsides to make them more beautiful?"

The heather thought about the poor soil, the wind and the rain - and wasn’t very sure that she could do a good job. But turning to God she replied that if he wanted her to do it, she would certainly give it a try.

God was very pleased.

He was so pleased in fact that he decided to give the heather some gifts as a reward for her willingness to do as he had asked.

Firstly he gave her the strength of the oak tree - the bark of the heather is the strongest of any tree or shrub in the whole world.

Next he gave her the fragrance of the honeysuckle - a fragrance which is frequently used to gently perfume soaps and potpourri.

Finally he gave her the sweetness of the rose - so much so that heather is one of the bees favourite flowers. And to this day, heather is renowned especially for these three God given gifts."
[Speyside Heather Garden & Visitor Centre]