Play Ball

Yesterday saw another evening at the ballpark. Talk about bringing back memories—I have so many from a decade and a half of sitting at ballgames. It occurs to me that I’m never aware of making a memory at the time that I am. There aren’t any thoughts specifically that I’m going to remember this moment over and over as I am just going about living.

It strikes me funny that unexpected mental pictures remain long after the subject has grown up or moved away. For example, I remember sitting at a T-ball game when an earthquake occurred. The fence between us and the little players began to rattle, and then the grandstand down the way sounded like huge hands were twisting it back and forth. The bleachers shook and players and spectators alike looked helplessly at each other.

Another particular game I remember was an end-of-the-year tournament game when our youthful pitchers had gone as far as they could go. Some of us mothers (you know the dads wouldn’t do this) stood up and started singing “Take me out to the ballgame” like a 7th inning stretch moment. I remember the little guys smiling, then laughing, then finishing the game. I don’t remember who won or lost, just that the young boys of summer needed a little extra boost that day.

Oh, there were hundreds of other moments when I look back that I can think of, but the years just kind of run together, separated only by the color of the uniforms as we moved up the ladder and the level of expertise. I remember those as good days, but I don’t know if I realized they were good at the time. Then, there were the frantic schedules, the meals eaten on the run, family squabbles over who sat where in the van, and the general irritations purposely caused by one sibling toward the other three.

Now, we’re back at the ballpark, down at the other end—the softball end—and starting over with the littles. As I watch the bleacher sitters being so thrilled with the effort and little successes of the tiny players (and rarely if ever pointing out shortcomings), I think God may look at His children with more smiles than we imagine. Perhaps He is proud of our efforts and our little successes and maybe not nearly as quick to focus on our shortcomings as we might fear that He is.

Proverbs 10:7 says “The memory of the righteous will be a blessing.” I indeed have some wonderful blessings from days past at the ballpark.