Nebraska home base has been getting me accustomed to all four seasons in the same week. Some days feel more like summer, and others have me questioning why I haven’t moved south yet. But truly, I am loving this season. I didn’t know everywhere I would go with my horse trailer, but I’ve been glad Nebraska has welcomed me there, both at the Wakefield’s and at my mom and dad’s.

This is the most I’ve gotten to rope since April. Summer was focused on business, and I still am now, but I have more opportunities to work on my roping, and be coached. Who you share the arena with is very important. Like Jim told me the first day, “Just because you’re a girl doesn’t mean I’m not going to tell you how to get better.” I like receiving help and feedback on my roping, mostly because I’m competitive and I don’t like doing things wrong. But with team roping, the process is going to expose a lot that isn’t going right before it starts to come together.

“The pursuit of perfection is futile, the pursuit of excellence is essential.”—Jim Wakefield

Having perfectionist tendencies, this message struck a chord. I battle with my self-worth in the roping pen, not as much as I used to, but I’m still aware of it. When I make a stupid mistake, it feels like I’m letting people down, and it can be difficult for me to move past the mistake to my next opportunity; my next steer.

Listening to podcasts and how winners win fuels me. Miles Baker of the Relentless Remuda talked about why Trevor Brazile was so good at winning. His point was that Trevor was able to win because Trevor was a better loser than anyone else. This attribute has shown up in other elite performers, like John Wooden. Coach Wooden was often seen with the same demeanor on his face, whether he was winning or losing, you couldn’t tell by his reaction.

At times, I can do this well, but most of the time, there is an internal battle to get there. I had an opportunity to go enter a roping in Nebraska, and I did. After misreading my cow and being terribly late at the start, I missed my position entirely. My mental training kicked in, and some words of confidence from someone I trust kept me from spiraling. It didn’t make me feel less than or undeserving. I knew what I needed to do better to make a run the next time.

More travel and practice sessions on the sled had me ready for another taste of competition. It’s weird being in your home state, yet in another world that I didn’t know existed when I lived there. In the third round, I made a mistake that I shouldn’t have, costing me an opportunity at the short round. This one frustrated me because I was focusing on the wrong thing. Talking through the day with Jim, we acknowledged that I had made some headway, but I’m still nowhere close to where I want to be. Jim texted me his words of wisdom, and it became even more essential for me to pursue excellence, not perfection.

I roped the dummy one last time before I headed to the airport. My knowledge of what needs corrected and what doesn’t has been empowering. I thought back to times practicing by myself when I wasn’t getting the results I thought I should be, and I didn’t know what to fix. This time training has not only corrected some of those things but also has helped me acknowledge what I can change to be better. This is important in everything we do, not just roping. But it is essential in roping.

I landed in Reno and set out for a local western shop before my hour drive to South Lake Tahoe. Wandering around the western shop, I made small talk with the gal helping me find a hat band. Somewhere between Jackson Hole and Nebraska, mine went missing, and it’s most likely on a plane somewhere. As I made my way to the counter, the owner and I started talking. He and I both go to Arizona to rope in the winter. I was thankful for the connection, and we concluded we would be on the lookout for each other.

After fueling up on my afternoon caffeine, I set out for the scenic route which followed the lake from North to South, a route I had never traveled. Winding through trees and hairpin turns, I often pulled off to let the locals pass me at speeds I don’t care to ever reach on a mountain pass. There I could see it: water. Like an ocean fabric through the trees, more and more water became evident until it was part of my view for the remainder of the trip. What interested me the most was the rockiness of this part of the lake. Rock piles and islands beat up by the water off the coastline reminded me of Italy.

What really caught my attention were the trees. There were so many trees throughout the drive, but once the water came into view, there was less dirt and more rock these trees were growing through. Turn after turn I saw roots exposed on multiple trees, pushing through and intertwining between the rocks. Some were thick, and others more vinelike, persistently pushing through the rock. Though exposed, the trees were standing tall, unwavering, though I’m confident the strong winds had challenged their stature.

Had these roots not been exposed in the rock, I don’t think I would have appreciated their strength and resilience. The vulnerability of the landscape should have made them less stable, but rather, displayed their uncommon ability for survival and strength. We don’t always know our strength until life exposes us. When life gives us ground of uncertainty, that’s when the strength of our roots is shown.

This simple yet impactful picture gave me so much to ponder. Had these roots not persisted through the rock, they would cease to be there. Now the rocks aren’t a hindrance, but rather a source of life. When life gives us rocky substance, we have an opportunity to persist and thrive.

Part of the journey is in exposure. Vulnerability is uncomfortable, but unavoidable. But where are your roots? I’m rooted in knowing no matter what happens, I’ll stand firm in who my maker says I am. When Jesus showed Peter and John where He would build His church, it was on a rock in a highly occupied territory of the enemy. Made no difference to where roots were being set. It was going to grow. Often we look at the rocks and see barriers. What if the barriers aren’t hindrances at all, but rather places of stability and foundation?

Persist through the rock, and stand firm. The journey will expose areas of risk, fear, and reasons to doubt. Don’t take the enemy up on fear or doubt. Persist and grow through it. You’re not the first one to live through it. It is in the persistence and determination to grow where we succeed. The results will come, likely after opportunities to expose error and improvements. It’s a blessing to be in the pursuit of something greater. For when the ground falls away, the roots in the rock will hold, as long as you’re willing to grow through the rock.

Stand tall, lose well, and continue to pursue excellence. It will not be in vain. And the adventure through the rock will become one you stand on.