My Inbox of Daily Inspirations: Daily Heartlight -- May 22, 2008

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May 22, 2008

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=========================== TODAY'S ARTICLE ==========================

Grand Slam?, by Kelly Breece

Check out our new women's blog, featuring Teresa Bell Kindred. You can
find it online here: http://akindredheart.com. You can also follow
Kelly Breece on her blog found here: http://morning-cup.blogspot.com

The sun was setting on a March evening leaving a chill in the air. It
was the last practice before the first game. A single lamppost shined
on each boy at bat. The coaches pitched to each player until they'd had
a chance to hit the ball a few times each. All the other teammates had
had their turns; now, they stood in the field and watched as Shane
stepped up to the plate. Would it be just like the other practices?

The pitch flew ... swing ... a second ... a third ... another swing ...
nothing. Each pitch that sailed past his bat made it harder and harder
for him to raise it up to try again. He wanted to lay it down and walk
away. He wanted to go home. I stood back, in the dark, with my arms
folded, nervously rocking back and forth on my heels, begging God to
let him hit the ball at least once tonight. If he couldn't hit the ball
tonight after trying so many times, I didn't know if he'd try again
tomorrow. I wanted to protect him from this disappointment and
frustration; but more than that, I wanted to help him push past his
fear.

Seeing him standing there, alone, and discouraged, I vividly remembered
standing at home plate in front of my teammates years ago, feeling as
if everyone around me "got it" but me. When we're young, keeping up is
everything. I didn't know, at that age, that finding my own true
passion in life would bring the validity that I was seeking back then.
During that season, all I wanted in life was to fit in.

Shane's team finally ended the practice that night. The coach
sympathetically patted him on the shoulder and offered him a few words
of encouragement, but Shane didn't hear him. He just saw me; he dropped
his head and dragged his bat across the grass to me. He tried to be
tough, but when he felt my arms around him, he just sunk into them.
"We'll get it, Buddy," I assured him. "Don't worry."

Game day rolled around. Bats clanged and cleats scooted across the sand
on the concrete floor as the team gathered in the dugout. Crisp "Red
Sox" uniforms lined the bench. The boys were eager to get their first
game started.

Shane nervously swung his legs back and forth beneath the bench seat,
timid and insecure. The team's dugout coach, with his roster in hand,
called Shane's name second. Shane stood, slowly picked up his helmet
and bat, and walked shyly out to the batter's box. I started to ask
that through my prayers, God would give him the confidence and the
strength he needed to meet this challenge. The first player hit the
ball on the first pitch -- a strong single. The umpire motioned for
Shane to step up to the plate. I sensed that the coach had similar
ideas as me as I saw him look deeply into Shane's eyes as if to send,
through that stare, the power to connect with the ball and hit it. The
first pitch came ... then the second ... nothing.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Lord, let him hit it. Please
let him hit the ball just once."

To me, God had just moved a mountain!

CLING! "Run Shane run!" yelled the coach.

I opened my eyes and saw that Shane had hit the ball. He did it! It
landed two feet from home plate, but it was the hit that he needed. He
made it to first base; and with the next batter, he made it all the way
to home plate. Two more times that night, Shane hit the ball. I can't
begin to put into words the elation that I felt in that moment.

I looked around and couldn't help but notice that I was cheering much
louder than any of the other parents did when their son successfully
hit the ball. They all had comfortable folding chairs. They chatted
with each other nonchalantly about where they would eat after the game
or how work was that day. To them, the game was no big deal.

To me, God had just moved a mountain! You'd have thought his "hit,"
barely making it off home plate, was a grand slam. The joy I felt was
so incredible, I believe, because it was born of adversity. What a
gift!

Since that night, Shane has come to love baseball. I have to admit,
that although I'm just as thrilled, I stay in my seat now. There's no
comparison with the joy I felt when he hit the ball for the first time
that season.

My prayer is that the next season of frustration or disappointment
through which we pass as a family is met with acceptance and assurance
that God is simply sharpening our vision so that we may see the true
colors and true beauty of the joy that will follow it.

Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but when the desire cometh, it
is a tree of life (Proverbs 21:30 KJV).

---------
(c) 2008 Kelly Breece <KellyBreece@aol.com>. From the Morning Cup
<http://morning-cup.blogspot.com> Devotional, a weekly devotional
for Christian women.

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Daily Heartlight -- May 22, 2008