A Significant Handprint

Pinellafie and I at her retirement celebration in July 2018.
34 years later.

The older I get, the more important each memory becomes. This one left a mark.

Pinellafie (Gilford) Johnson

When I was in 8th grade, at a small 1A school in Texas, where everyone went to school, from Kindergarten all the way through high school, I was looking for direction. I was looking for something to peak my interests. I was looking to better myself in some way that would help me make it through this thing called school. I was more of an outsider since I was a transplant from Houston. I wasn't related to everyone in town. I didn't attend the same church as the majority. I liked learning but didn't like the initial environment that I was thrown into back at the beginning of 5th grade. 

Before 7th grade, I made some memories, but nothing like what happened in 8th grade. It was the beginning of so many things for me.

8th Grade Basketball: Kim, Jennifer, Laura, Kathy, Me, Wanda, Stephanie, Marcy & Coach

Coach Gilford, PG as she was nicknamed, was hired as a new coach. She was young, fresh out of college, and had big plans for each of her teams. Being a small school, she was employed to coach all female sports, and educate all students about health.

The gym was something of a historical building in the small town. It was constructed of wood. There was not an air conditioning system installed. We had industrial fans (on the floor) and loud heaters in the winter. It was a less than desired venue, but I grew up in a time that we rarely complained, and we were not led to feel entitled... about anything. I learned to love it. The fans were right in your face and the games were always crowded.

Enter PG and her whistle.

Bleachers, Football Drills and Fingertip Pushups (upside down on the wall) are the most prominent.

You have never run bleachers unless you have trekked up and down bleachers made of solid wood, with no give in them, and no forgiveness if you just missed that step by a hair. Your shins would remember them. Mine did. 

Fingertip pushups? Yep. Looking back, I don't see how I didn't fall and break my neck. Those were very hard. But again, the results are proof that they worked.

Besides all of that running and training – and yes, I ran and drank water, and ran, and drank water... to stay hydrated, and lost it all after running – and the miles I ran for track, I somehow sensed that whatever she was doing, was for the betterment of me. Though, to be honest, I didn't like the way she chose to drill me, coach me, push me and challenge me. But I am so thankful that she did.

There are many memories of Coach. From singing Brooks and Dunn in our van on the way to volleyball tournaments to eating at McDonald's after a game because we thought it was healthy. Track meets where I didn't do my best. 

And for those of you who know me... who really know me... can't possibly imagine that I had some sort of an attitude while I was participating in my athletic endeavors, right? At least I improved over the 5 years with Coach. I'll take it.

I was a mess. I was a good kid, but I was impatient. I pouted when something didn't go my way, and Coach always reminded me that I would step on my lip if I didn't suck it up and get over it. 

I was one of the few that wasn't her "friend." I was on a mission. There wasn't any room for "friendship" in my coach/player relationship. I think it was just as important to her to feel success in the players she coached. (At least I felt that way when I coached, briefly.) ---side note--- I was looking through my Class of 89 book the other day, and I have found this: "My Most Unforgettable Moment: Mrs. Gilford's face when I told her I received the scholarship."  I wanted to learn and absorb everything I could to be better, grow stronger, reach higher goals. But, I did respect her. Did I agree with everything she said? No. Did I do it? 99.9% of the time. I had this innate quality of wanting to make not only my parents proud of me, but make her proud of me as well. I didn't like it when I disappointed her. (I am still like that in some ways.) That was important to me.

I took everything literal. One district basketball game, I let someone slip past me on the full court press, and they scored. There was a timeout called. And I was told, "do not let anyone past you and stand your ground." I did just that. I went back out. They tried the same play. The girl ran smack into me and fell to the ground. I was left standing. Then the referee blew the whistle and called a foul on me. Evidently, I should have thrown myself back on the ground and took the charge, but I was told to stand my ground, so I did. Coach probably doesn't remember that, or a number of other seemingly insignificant events that happened over the span of 5 years.

Every year, Coach challenged me. She challenged me and forever changed me. She taught me about expectations, and how not to put all your faith in one thing, one game, one shot, or one year. I've written some about how her faith in our Lord trickled down. We prayed the Lord's prayer before EVERY game (wasn't an issue back then) and Coach even invited us to go to church with her as a team. I am not aware of the impact she had on the others, but I can confirm the impact on me. 

The most important being my senior year in high school in the middle of our district basketball season. I can remember the day clearly. We had a game that night against the team favored winning the district. I was in English class when I received a message to go to the front office. My dad was on the other end of the phone. My mom's mother had suffered a brain aneurysm and was in a coma at a hospital in Houston. Needless to say, I was a little anxious about the news I just heard. I ran down the hall and slid down the wall in an entrance to one of the classrooms that was empty. My Spanish teacher, Ms. Colunga, came and walked me back to the office, where she prayed with me, and then she walked me down to the gym because that's where I said I wanted to be. Coach let me come in. She didn't know the whole story, but she knew it upset me. So, she did what she was really good at... she took my mind off the anxiety, and tossed me a basketball and asked me to shoot 100 free throws. While I was doing that, she spoke to my father on the phone and was told about what had happened to my grandmother. She came back out there and hugged me. You know, I don't remember being uber emotional when I was younger, but I can't be sure. She said to just pray about it, and God would get me through. Again, turning my focus off of the actual event. I finished my free throws and went to her office. We ended up winning that game. :) 

"Awesome 8" Bi-District 54-A Champions
Coach, D Freeman, L Evans (me), V Foy
S Tomkivits, N Yargo, K Carrell, K Hieden, M Molitor

That day changed my view of Coach. She was compassionate, helpful, respectful of my situation, and she was calm. Calm in the storm of that day.

I use the term handprints because she was one of the ones that shaped my attitude, corraled my potential, and pushed me to be the best version of myself at that time in my life. 

It took 5 years of blood, sweat, and tears, patellar tendonitis, coming down from a rebound and knocking an opposing players teeth out, driving another player into the mat behind the goal and breaking her arm, running horses, drinking a lot of water, laughing, and living to make it to graduation. I will always be a member of the Awesome 8.

After my high school career, she traveled with me to tryouts at UMHB for basketball. I had already tried out for volleyball there. After I signed a letter of intent to UMHB, ACU called me in for a tryout for basketball. I flew up there, met Coach McCoy, tried out, and ended up trying out for the volleyball team as well. I eventually committed to ACU, and that's where I went on to play volleyball for 4 years and played basketball my freshman year. PG drove up there and came to one of my volleyball games. She has no idea how much that means to me. I mean, it was 5 hours away, not just down the road. And, she hit a deer on the way home. That was dedication. I love her.

I left high school with the tools I needed to succeed. And I owe a lot of that to PG. I left as an all-state basketball player and was honored in 2009 to be inducted into the ACU Sports Hall of Fame for volleyball. 

Talk about teaching a man to fish. She made a significant handprint on my heart, and I am blessed to have had her as a coach.

Sometimes you are just better by
having people like this in your life.
I am blessed.

Philippians 1:3

Words I Thought I'd Never Say

When I was six years old, living in Cypress on a one-acre plot with plenty of trees and land around our house, I made the mistake that I will never forget. Mom and I had just went to the store. I was intrigued with mechanical pencils and writing instruments. (Guess I got that characteristic from my dad...) We pulled up in the driveway in the back and were beginning to unload the car. At that moment, the unthinkable happened... my new pencil fell in between the back seat cushion and the seat. Back then, the cars were made a little better, and not everything was one piece.

As I was digging in the seat, frantically, trying to recover my newest addition to the collection of office supplies, these words came out of my mouth, "G-- D-----!" (I don't even like typing it.)

6 years old, mind you... oh, goodness... the events that happened next pretty much changed my path in life. Mom, with her keen sense of hearing then, didn't waste a minute. She flipped open the door, yanked me out, drug me inside the house, directly into the bathroom, and shoved a small bar of soap in my mouth, all while lecturing me and reprimanding me for saying God's name in vain, and cursing. I didn't even have a chance to argue, with lack of being able to breath around the bar of soap. She asked my why I would say that... Again, I couldn't answer clearly. She was angry. She was disappointed. And I felt every bit of it.

After the few minutes (which seemed like 6 hours) of holding my mouth closed with soap in my mouth, and listening to my mother tell me how disappointed not only she was in me, but God was as well, I was broken down. I cried. I apologized. And... I said I'd never do that again.

Mom was definitely the disciplinarian. Dad, well, Dad was Dad. There was discipline with Dad, but not as much as Mom. Mom was full of discernment. She knew right from wrong, and was trying her best to pass that on to me. As reluctant as I was at times, I knew, for a fact, that if I wanted to live my life and be happy, I was to love God, go to church, and never, ever, say those words.  41 years and I still remember.

––––––––

Character is built over time. What you do in life can make you or break you. Choose who you surround yourself with carefully. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer. There are always people watching and learning from you.

Raised Right

I don't think I have ever questioned my upbringing, but I sure have questioned others... Which I have learned through experience, is a bit judgmental. Just because your parents raised you right, with good morals, a solid foundation for your life, good judgement, and godly principles does not mean you will keep those sacred your entire life.

We possess independence which allows us to think for ourselves, using our free will from God (not necessarily God's will) to make life decisions. Believe me, I have experienced the use of my free will, and it usually didn't end up well.

This goes deeper. What kind of person are you? Deep down? Do you care for others or are you selfish? Does money rule your world or does love? Do your friends and family know who you are or do they get to see the persona that you wish for them to see?

What if, one day, every one of us could see the "real" you? Would you be happy about that? Or do you cringe at the thought of someone knowing your true motives?

God is not fooled by our selfishness and is

“a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart”

(Hebrews 4:12)

"All a person's ways seem pure to them, but motives are weighed by the Lord"

(Proverbs 16:2)

In the end, we will all be judged. We will all come before the Lord and answer for our transgressions. Let that sink in. Every single thing we do, say, think, act upon, that is displeasing to the Lord, will be questioned.

There is so much more to this life than money, wealth, power, control, and winning... Yes, I said winning... Being a former collegiate athlete, I'll admit a lot of that part of my life was about winning... Winning on the court, winning in school, winning the approval of my professors, etc... But I can tell you one thing for sure is that not once in my life have I ever thought my life was about how much money I make... maybe about how much I could help, or give to those in need... but never about me. Many people I know think completely the opposite. They are money-driven. I am results-driven. I want those I work with, laugh with, are friends with, volunteer with (for the most part) to be happy and fulfilled. And no matter who tells me how to act, what to believe, etc., I will do what is deep down in my soul to do.

I need to find that happy medium... where I'm not being taken advantage of, but also, where I am taking care of myself. But I'm not a medium kind of gal. ;)

––––––––––––––––––––

make the choice to be the bigger person.
do what is right.
don't be selfish.
God knows your heart.