Passion

Never in my life have I been so driven—so devoted to a single objective as I have with tennis this summer. I never really cared much about the sport until my senior year of high school and by then it was too late for significant improvement. I don’t know exactly when or why everything changed for me, but over the past few summer months I seemingly developed a tennis addiction. I played every single day, every chance I had—sometimes 4 or more hours a day. When I wasn’t playing tennis I was thinking about it—dreaming up ways I could improve my strokes and place the ball exactly where I wanted it to go. When I was playing, I never wanted to stop. I wouldn’t even want to go out of town because I didn’t want to be away from the court. It’s like I got some weird satisfaction from hitting a winner shot or putting all my energy into winning a point. I was always striving for improvement, striving for excellence. It became an obsession and an outlet for my frustrations. Whenever I was having a bad day, whenever I felt worthless or upset, I knew I still had tennis. I found fulfillment, in a way, in how much I was improving.

Yet, my love for the sport was not measured by my ability. It was truly for tennis, itself. I was a gymnast for almost half of my life—certainly competing at a higher level than that which comprised the majority of my tennis career. Looking back, my proudest gymnastics moments were great not because of my passion for the sport, but because of a passion for glory. But through all those years I can think of few instances where I felt the same passion that I do for tennis. It’s a feeling of pure joy and freedom. It’s a desire to strive for more, push for more, work for more. No matter what it takes, no matter how long, no matter how many hours, obstacles or injuries. It doesn’t matter if I am not the best one or if I lose every match. I now understand the genuine meaning of passion. It is not a sentiment of pride or self-seeking action. I mean, people play sports for all kinds of reasons—for the physical fitness, for the friends, for the popularity, for the scholarship, the money, the fame, the honor. That is not passion for the sport itself, but what you will get out of it. The past four years of tennis (even though it has been sporadic) have given me so many benefits, but my passion is rooted simply in the love of the game.

Passion. What is passion? To me passion is playing the piano for three or four hours when I have minimal knowledge of music. It is that moment where I swam through the canyons of the Klamath River and stared up at that waterfall and realized it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Passion is meaningful friendships and whitewater rafting. It is hearing a good sermon and spending months reading, understanding and pursuing its meaning. It is falling asleep to my favorite song because I cannot get enough of its perfect sound. Passion restores my faith in love and art. It is a supernatural devotion whose essence extends far beyond practicality or self-seeking action.

About two months ago I went with Nicole and some other friends to the Heights college group to hear a guest speaker, Trent Sheppard. He taught on Mark 12:30:

"Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength."

It’s a passage I’ve heard my whole life but I guess I never understood its complete message. He taught about each God-given means we have of loving God. Our heart shapes our passion; our mind shapes our understanding; our strength shapes our service and our soul shapes our will. Never in my life had I had such a clear picture of what love really meant. The premise of the lesson was how every individual has a tendency to love only with one or two of these means.

On the drive home Nicole and I talked about the aspects of love we most struggle with. I knew without a doubt that for me it was passion. So much of me loved God with my understanding and service. I tried to honor Him in the choices I made and the things I did. I used my knowledge of the New Testament and worldviews, the understanding of his sacrifice, the capacity of his greatness to shape my love for Him. Apparently, I was missing something crucial-- something that without it, will lead to a road of arrogance and legalism.

Over the past few weeks, I began to make the connection. Why is it that I can feel such passion for tennis, music, friendships and the outdoors but not the God of the universe—the everlasting, unchanging God? A God greater than our simple minds can comprehend, yet personal enough to know the inner-workings of our mind and love us more than we could ever fathom. I wanted to love Him with all of my heart—all of my passion.

I came to the realization the passion that I have for tennis parallels the way I should be loving God: an unwavering obsession, a source of joy and fulfillment. If I can love something so insignificant, shouldn’t my love be so much infinitely greater for the one who first loved me? I want to submerse myself in his love not so as to give myself the glory. I want to live for him, through him and by him through the good times and bad. I don’t want to be trapped anymore—trapped in personal notions of morality and good deeds. I’m tired of trying chasing after the person I think I ought to be. I’m tired of running. I’m ready for freedom. I want to love like crazy—to love Him with passion.

Keep it Real

Sara Nicole