When I was a little girl, my parents and my aunt and uncle formed a bowling team. They called themselves “Black Magic.” They were good too! Mama once scored a 300 point game. Aunt Ella looked like everything graceful when she bowled. Daddy and Uncle Hi…well, they were just smooth. 

To occupy me, they put me in bowling lessons. Let’s just say I was the little Black girl version of John McEnroe. All of my balls were gutter, and what we did not know then was my budding perfectionism exploded on the lane. I embarrassed my parents. I know I did. 

Fast forward 20+ years. 

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Public domain image

Last month my church had a game night and those of us who bowled had to see our names on the board with Pastor. Our pastor is competitive, and good at a lot of things. I ended up with the second highest score and one strike! Imagine that. 

 

It only took time to grow and gain some strength so I could put appropriate force behind the bowling ball. 

Question: If you take a step back from the self-analysis, and put the critical tapes in your head on pause, how much have you grown? ALOT. Are you stronger now than when you were “little” in this area? ABSOLUTELY. How long has it been since you tried again? TOO LONG. 

Royal Ones, take your position. You can handle the bowling ball now. Get momentum and release it. There is nothing else to wait on but you. Get some points on the board. Produce some fruit. Show YOU that you’ve got this. 

Worst case, say to yourself what the little girl in Miracle on 34th Street repeated on the way to her answer (though she did not know it), “I believe. I believe. It’s silly, but I believe.” Then boom — she saw the promise.

There shall be a performance Loved Ones, but we’ve got to show up and do our part (even if it’s just to show up with confidence). 

Selah, and love to all. 

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