The Ministry of Showing Up
Like I said in my last post, when I started doing ministry I was instructed to go survey the land. For the first two or three weeks, that's exactly what I did. No commitments, no expectations, just showing up and seeing.
Before I came on staff, there was only one female staff member serving our entire area. And if you knew how many schools that included, you'd understand how impossible it would be for one person to be everywhere. There were already doors wide open, teams wanting someone to come and be apart, and coaches who had been waiting for someone to step in. Wide open doors, with nobody to walk through them. But something I've been learning is that just because a door is open doesn't mean I'm supposed to walk through every single one.
Our mission is discipleship. And discipleship takes time. It takes commitment to the same place with the same people. We could try to visit twenty schools a week, pop in with a coffee, say hello, and move on to the next one. We could say we'd been there. But what does that really mean to the people we're trying to reach? Would we even be reaching anywhere or just passing by each place with only a few seconds to give? I don't want to just make an appearance in someone's life. I want to be someone who sticks around.
We choose the few and show up with consistency and intention.
As I began talking with Ryan, my boss, about all the different teams and schools I was visiting, he challenged me to start asking some questions. Which coaches value what we're bringing to the table? What happens when I show up? Where are relationships beginning to grow? Where might God be asking me to invest more deeply?
It wasn't about ranking schools or deciding some athletes mattered more than others. It was about recognizing that I can't be everywhere, and learning to be intentional with what God has gifted me. Since then, I've started spending time with Conway softball, Conway volleyball, and Greenbrier basketball; and what showing up looks like for each of those teams is completely different. Sometimes I'm there to encourage a coach. Sometimes I'm building relationships with an entire team. Sometimes God puts one particular athlete on my heart. That's one thing I love about this ministry. There isn't a formula for loving people.
Conway softball and Greenbrier basketball are two places where I really feel God asking me to draw near right now. The relationships have started growing so naturally, and the coaches have been incredibly welcoming.
I've only been around the Greenbrier basketball girls a handful of times, and their whole team hasn't even been together yet, but I'm already beginning to love these girls. When I first met Coach Simmons, he was immediately thinking of ways to get me together with his team. He didn't just welcome me into the gym; he was excited about what this could mean for his girls. And I don't know exactly what God has planned there yet. But I have this feeling He's preparing something I can't quite see. Last week, I showed up to practice on one of the girls' birthdays. Me and Dayna brought cupcakes, and she called this her “birthday practice”. It was such a small thing. But this same girl has started talking with me more and more. She even invited us to come watch her dance at the football game for her senior night. And I know that might not sound like much, but that invitation meant something to me. She was beginning to understand that we're not just there for basketball. We're there for her. We want to celebrate her in every way she deserves. She can count on us to always show up for the things that matter to her. We are committed to these relationships for the long run. In that small moment, thats what it felt like this athlete recognized in us. Sometimes that's where a relationship begins. Not with some big, life-changing conversation, but with cupcakes at practice and an invitation to senior night.
And sometimes you get to see what years of showing up can lead to. I still go with Dayna to spend time with the Conway basketball girls. During my first year at UCA, she invited my roommate and me to come get to know them. I had no idea then what those relationships would become. Two years later, we're still there. We now do check ins with the team every Wednesday, meet with a few of their leaders, spend time encouraging their coaches and staff, and continue showing up at practices and games. And we're beginning to see fruit from relationships that have been growing all this time. There's one athlete I've been getting to know since those early days. She's outgoing and easy to talk to, but when it comes to the harder things in life, she's always kept her guard up. For a long time, our conversations stayed pretty surface-level. Then recently, something changed. She watched a podcast I had been part of over the summer, where I shared about a difficult season in my own life. Something in my story resonated with her, and she reached out. For the first time, she began letting me see that there were things she was carrying beneath the surface. I didn't suddenly know everything she was walking through. I still don't. But I could tell that a wall was beginning to come down. So I kept showing up. One day, I brought her lunch at school, and we spent some time together. She shared more of her heart than she ever had before. And I walked away thinking, This is why I'm here.
Not because I had all the answers. Not because I know how to perfectly disciple every individual I meet. But because after two years of being present, she knew she had someone she could reach out to. Someone who would listen. Someone who wasn't just going to disappear. Someone who would tell her truth and God’s heart towards her. I think about how easily I could have missed that moment if our goal had simply been to visit as many teams as possible. That's what I'm learning about discipleship. It isn't always quick, and it isn't always something you can measure. Sometimes you're showing up for months or years before you begin to see what God has been growing the whole time. When a seed is planted, you never automatically see fruit. When you water it day after day you begin to realize that fruit takes careful tending and attention to grow. Good fruit, especially, takes time to grow.
The more time I spend walking through these high school hallways, sitting in gyms, and getting to know these athletes, the more I find myself thinking about the girl I used to be. I was in those halls once. I remember what it felt like to be a high school athlete. I remember the things I was carrying that people couldn't see. I remember needing someone who would do more than ask how practice was going. Someone who would notice. Someone who would stay. Someone who cared enough to ask the hard questions, even when I didn't know how to bring those things up myself. And now I get the privilege to be that person for someone else. I don't take that lightly. I want to be someone these girls can laugh with, celebrate with, and count on. But I also want to be bold with them. I want to love them enough to have the conversations that matter, to ask the questions that might be uncomfortable, and ultimately to point them toward Jesus. Because sometimes people don't realize how much they needed someone until that person starts showing up.
These first two months have filled me with so much gratitude. Not because I've done anything extraordinary, but because God has made a way for me to walk alongside these girls. Some relationships are just beginning. Some have been growing for years. And there is so much I can't see yet. But I know this much. I don't want to just be someone who came by their school once. I want to be someone who showed up and stayed.
I'm so thankful God has given me the opportunity to be someone for these girls that I wish I'd had when I was their age.