On the eve of the 2nd Olympic Trials...

19 days ago I sat down at my computer and wrote for six hours. As I wrote, my throat hurt and my head was pounding, my eyes were red and swollen from crying. For the first time in 5 years, I was prepared to admit failure and walk away from archery for good. The gist of the letter was that so long as I believed that I could make the Olympic team, I would continue to pursue it but that I had always promised myself the moment that I stopped believing would be the moment that I would stop shooting. To me, on that day, the moment had come, I was done.

Now, on the eve of the 2nd Olympic trials, I am thankful that I never sent that letter and that I’ve had some time to reflect on this journey. In many ways, my courtship with archery has been like that saying "it is better to have loved and lost, than never have loved at all." There are a lot of things that I could have been doing the past four years that would have made me a lot more money or that would have given me a lot less heart ache, but I doubt that any of them would have challenged my character and my faith in God more than archery.

The irony is that while I’ve only been shooting archery for the past five years, it was on an archery field, nearly 15 years ago, that I first accepted Christ. My journal entry from June 22nd, 1993 reads: Today my counselor Kris and I went to the archery field during F.O.B. (flat on back)(rest period) and talked… we came down to one question, "What do you want to do now?" I answered, "Start all over." So I asked Him into my heart because I wanted to, not because someone told me to.

So, when I question archery, or when I feel as though I have failed, I am missing the bigger picture. I’m missing all the joy that having a real relationship with God has brought back into my life. I’m missing that feeling of true forgiveness and unconditional love that only Christ’s sacrifice can give me. Whether I make the Olympic team or not, I will always have a rock to build my house on that no one can take away from me.

My goal is to compete this week without fear of failure, without the need or desire to prove anything to anyone. My goal is to enjoy the blessings that God has given me, to be thankful to all those who have supported me and believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself. My hope is that if I can do this, I will succeed in God’s eyes, ultimately the only eyes that matter.