Where I'm currently staying, there's a wonderfully large field just down the hill and skip across the creek from our campsite. Twice in the past three days I've practiced my disc golf throwing skills on that field, attempting to get my discs to fly straight and stable.
At first I felt a little self-conscious practicing so openly. The field is right next to an oft busy road. I thought people would look at me strangely, wondering why a girl is throwing a frisbee to no one, and think me rather odd. The more I threw that first practice, I realized that most people passing by don't even see me throw the disc. 75% of the time I spend on that field I'm simply walking to get the disc, using the time to analyze how to throw better next time. To a person driving past in their car, I'm just a girl walking in a field. Nothing strange at all.
As the hours ticked away that practice, I started to recognize some of the cars that passed by. I didn't find this creepy at all—we're staying next to campus of a fairly small college, and a person driving the same road multiple times in a day isn't uncommon. However, I realized that on these multiple passes, they probably gain the impression I'm simply pacing the field. Again, nothing horribly strange. Maybe just she's just a quirky girl who likes walking laps.
Then I realized there are buildings with windows nearby. And other campers. And places for people who are stationary to watch the girl in the field. She walks back and forth talking to herself. She throws the same disc over and over with no one to catch it. Sometimes, for no obvious reason, she gets extremely excited over one throw more than the others and starts skipping with joy when she goes to retrieve it. It looks like utter madness.
But it's not.
I'm practicing for a game most people don't know about or understand. I throw to no one because in disc golf, the discs aren't meant to be caught. They're meant to land on the ground. I retrieve it myself because walking gives me time to analyze the throw. I leap for joy because the disc left my hand and did exactly want I wished it to, though it may look exactly the same as the last shot. I do it to improve my skills, not to impress people or beat other players. Rather, I practice because I simply love to throw and watch the disc fly.
And I'm okay with looking crazy for doing it.
As I contemplate this potential perception of myself, I begin to think about what God's called me to do. Some catch a glimpse of me doing what He desires, think nothing of it, and move on. Some might do a double take, think it odd, and move on. Some might watch closely and think me insane for doing something that seems absolutely ludicrous and pointless. But just like with practicing disc golf, I want to be completely okay with looking crazy for doing what my Lord tells me to. I want my passion for sowing good seed and watching what He grows to totally supersede any anxiety or fear I have.
And I guess the way to accomplish that is through practice.