The Few and the Dedicated

As I watch the Olympics being held in Rio de Janiero, I am rooting for Team USA, enjoying the impressive feats of athleticism, and wondering at the beauty of the countryside. I'm also remembering my short-lived time as a gymnast.

I was young, maybe five or six years old. I remember going to the elementary school gym, and my mom (and probably my younger sister) sat along the wall with other moms and siblings. The four apparatus were there: floor mats, horse, balance beam, and uneven parallel bars. We were little kids, and little kids like to tumble, so we started with the floor mats. We did somersaults and cartwheels and round-offs. We practiced the balance beam. We even did the horse, and I recall that I liked it and was good at it, but I also recall that all we did was run down the mat, jump on the spring board, and fly -- right side up -- over the horse. Nothing fancy. Then we did the uneven bars, and that's where it ended for me.

I could pull myself up so the lower bar was at my hips. I could swing my hips up, so that I swung backwards to starting position. But I couldn't pull myself up and then roll forward. I was afraid.

And there it ended.

* * * * *

I imagine that Gabby Douglas, Aly Raisman, Laurie Hernandez, Simone Biles, and Madison Kocian started their gymnastics careers at about the same age I did. Now, as women in their late teens and early 20s, they are Olympic Gold Medalists. How did they get there?

Dedication.

As five year olds, were they afraid to fall forward, or perhaps afraid to jump over the horse? Maybe. But if they were, they didn't let it stop them. In her short life, my five year old niece has broken her leg and her collarbone, but it doesn't stop her from getting on the trampoline again, and I'm sure our young Olympians have endured some pain to get where they are. My young friend Lucianne Burner, soon to be one of the newest pole vaulters for Arkansas State, has worked hard to make it to that level, and the Olympic team is no different.

Or, I should say, the teams are no different. Whether gymnastics, or cycling, or volleyball, or swimming, Olympic athletes have faced fear, pain, and demanding schedules. They are dedicated to their sport, and it will make them great.

* * * * *

I am not an athlete and have no desire to be. But we all want to be great. We want to be great moms and wives, great businesswomen, great at our hobbies. I want to be a great writer. I want to be a great Christian.

But any of these areas of greatness demand dedication. They demand working through the pain, physical or emotional. They demand facing the fear. They demand work. Hard work. Here are some suggestions to get you started:

Find a mentor who will work with you and encourage you, someone who has already been though it.

Read blogs or magazines that pertain to your area of greatness. Always be seeking to learn new things, whether it's business tactics or how to keep your toddlers occupied.

Be intentional. Greatness doesn't happen by accident!

Paul talks about the intentionality of the Christian walk in 1 Corinthians 9:24-27: Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may win. Everyone who competes in the games exercises self-control in all things. They then do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. Therefore I run in such a way, as not without aim; I box in such a way, as not beating the air; but I discipline my body and make it my slave, so that, after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified.

Just like the athletes competing in Rio who have been training for years and even decades, we must work hard and make sacrifices. It will be worth it.