Victory Lap

Dear Elise,

Region debate is tomorrow.  You've sat all day today, with that nagging thought in your head.  You have a talent for growing things--caring for them, watering them, cajoling them to bigger than they are.  And I'm not taking about plants.  You narrow in on one thing.  You find something that awakens your soul and you devote yourself.  You did that with volleyball.  You did that with the aftermath of volleyball.  Heck, you've even done it with the idea of growing things.  My favorite food is ice cream.  I like pizza.  My favorite color is pink.  I like the sky.  I run.  I read.  I like to be in charge.  I like clothes.  I cry a lot.

I debate.

You've let all of these things define you...maybe thinking that once you have everything in a nice, neat list life will make a little more sense.  You will understand a little bit better.

You are learning more and more that coming up with a definition is a lot harder than you would expect.  You can't just 'define' something, cite Merriam-Webster, and be done with it.  Life will never be like that.  And you, my dear, will never be like that.

Debate has been something that seems all encompassing doesn't it?  Every aspect of your life seems to be affected by it.  You like it.  You really have devoted an incredible amount of time, effort, talent, fear, and prayers into debate.  And it's almost done.

What do you have to show of it?

You have yourself.  I firmly believe that Heavenly Father provides you exactly what you need.  And He has allowed you to be changed by the debate program because that is what you needed.  It was the easiest, most exhilarating, most happy thing you could have done to get to where Elise is.  Other ways maybe would have worked.  Some methods may seem less painless.  But your high school wouldn't have been what it was without debate.

When you think of tomorrow, when you ignore the butterflies fluttering so fast in your stomach you can barely breathe for the current they're making, and when you hold your head up, know you've done enough.

You have stepped into the ring, not once, but twice.  You have stepped into the ring right after your success--success that burned so brightly you could barely breathe.  And you stepped into the arena right after your failure--failure that mildewed so much you could barely breathe because of the smell it gave off.

You've done it all.

Congrats.  You're done.  You've done enough.  And you now get to run your Victory Lap with three tournaments left.  "You're a sexy beast and you're going to rock this."

xo. Elise