One, Two, Three Strikes You're Out!

Tomorrow is opening day for baseball here........and this year my hubby is the president of the league. He has been fretting all week about having to get up and speak in front of all the families tomorrow (t-ball age through 12-year-olds). I asked him if he wanted me to be there or if I would make him more nervous. He wants me there because he may have a few things for me to do. Yeah, like he's probably going to hand the microphone to me! He figures that I had experience speaking in front of large audiences during my preschool director days. Hopefully, I'll just be his gofer.

Baseball has been at the forefront for our family a lot lately. I'd be remiss in not mentioning that our home team, the Phillies, won the World Series, which was fantastic! At the end of the summer we got to go to a very exciting Phillies game in which they went into extra innings and then won. My oldest son is lamenting the death of the Phillies' announcer, Harry Kalas this week. My husband grew up in California for the most part and the Angels was his home team, so last week's death of one of their pitchers was very sad. Oh, I can't forget that my younger son's baseball team won the championship last year after being in last place during the season! Eric and our sons are involved in fantasy baseball leagues, so the three of them are constantly checking their "stats".

And so here we are at the beginning of another season. Cooper has two more years of playing little league. Sam is done and decided not to continue on with his travel baseball team. He was thinking about playing school baseball again this year, but then he broke his thumb skiing and couldn't try out.

I was just thinking today, aren't you glad that God doesn't give us only three strikes and then tells us that we're out? We can swing and keep missing, and God still has compassion and love for us. He knows we're not perfect and doesn't expect a home run every time. This doesn't mean that our strikes don't discourage Him, but He still remains in His heavenly bleachers cheering us on. And He is ever so elated when we make a hit and advance around the bases toward home plate. If it's a grand slam, you know He's on His feet clapping and joyfully celebrating (maybe even giving some high fives)! Each time we cross home plate, we're one run closer to our Heavenly Father and doing His will. If we play for the love of the game and with faith, we'll each be champions of the eternal world series of life. Our trophies will be crowns and our hall of fame will be Heaven.

So, take me out to the ballgame..........I don't care if I never go back!