Value

I am in the process of writing a book. For the next few days, I am going to put a couple of the chapters on this blog. I would love some feedback, especially from parents. The book is intended to give parents a view a parenting from a student's perspective...Enjoy.



“Bottom of the Ninth”

THE STORY

The stage was set, bottom of the ninth, two outs, man on first, and down two runs. It was the regional tournament in my senior year at Mississippi College. On the line was the game, the season, my career, and a trip to the college world series. The situation was simple, and there was no one else I wanted in the box but me. Just as I stepped in the box, the manager for the other team called time and began his long walk to the mound. He reached for his right arm to signal for the closer. I knew what he was bringing, ninety-three m.p.h. with a little adrenaline on the side. As I stepped out of the box and walked back to the on-deck circle, I caught a glimpse of my dad!
My mind drifted very quickly over a lifetime of baseball. The one thought that stood out was how far I had come and how much he believed in me. During ninth grade tryouts, I barely had the arm to make the timed throw from center field to the backstop. A “rip” from my bat wouldn’t even reach the outfield grass. I think coach let me stay on the team as a developmental player, most likely because my older brother was a star. No one knew what that did to me! It was embarrassing and very depressing. Only one thing mattered in my high school--your average. To not even make the team was tough.
I came home one day after a tough day of practice, and I really wanted to quit! I remember the stern words he spoke to me: “Son, you are not a quitter and you are one of the best hitters I have ever seen!” Could he really believe that? And then he issued the Curry battle cry, “Son, the cream always rises to the top!”
My mind focused back to the game. No longer was I the young boy that just wanted a chance to get on the field. I was the seasoned veteran whose body had caught up with my baseball mind.
The time had come and 15 years of baseball had come to one defining moment. Everything was in slow motion as I began to walk to the plate. Coming out of the bull-pen…I knew that the pitcher would try to get ahead early and I was waiting on the fastball.
Life does not offer this opportunity very often. There are many roles to be cast for this epic, but I had the role of hero on my agenda! I gripped my weapon and the words echoed in my head, “The cream always rises to the top.”
I stepped in the box, and the showdown was now in its final stages. The crowd began to rise as the confrontation elevated to the highest drama in baseball. Your best against our best. He rocked back and began to deliver the pitch. Sure enough, here comes the inside fastball. My body moved in the obedient way that it had been instructed for many years. I turned, pivoted, and then let my hands fly. As I made contact, I could hear the ball, but I could not feel it hit my bat. If you have ever hit a homerun, you know that when you hit it well, you do not feel it and it is almost as if you swing straight through it.
The ball rose and disappeared through the heavy mist that had engulfed the field that late May night in Mississippi. I could hear the crowd erupt and see the runner in front of me leaping with joy.
The left fielder sprinted with his back to the field and I realized…..I just won the game and we are going to the college world series.
Suddenly, I looked up to see the ball falling down from the mist, and I saw the left fielder standing on the warning track. I watched as he reached up, caught the ball, and my dream. The game, the season, my career, and a trip to the college world series-- lost.
I bowed my head for just a moment and then one last time, I ran off the field with my head up. The other team celebrated as I wept in the dugout. It was more than a game to me. It was the relationships that would be lost. It was the dream that had suddenly come to a halt. I walked out of the dugout and the television cameras caught me in a moment for the good stuff that people wanted to see. I pulled it together for a moment.
I gathered my gear and began to walk out of the dugout, and into a new era of my life. I walked off the field, and I was avoided by every person at the park. It seemed that no one had any words to say. To be honest, I’m not sure if there were any words I wanted to hear…and then I saw Dad.
He didn’t avoid the situation; he rarely did. My mom and little brother looked understandably upset, but his eyes were not sad. I could barely cry the words, “I almost did it Dad, as I burried my head into is chest.
With his Mississippi College hat held high, he looked past my eyes and into my heart, “Almost? Son, you just did what every athlete dreams of.” I didn’t understand and he paused for just a moment. Then he finished, “Whether they loved you or hated you, cheered for your team or the other, or don’t understand the game of baseball…for one final moment you did what every athlete dreams of…you made everyone in the ballpark stand-up and gasp for air one last time. You could have folded under the pressure, but you didn’t! There’s not another player I have ever seen that I would want to hit in that situation.”

THE LESSON

A man can do anything in life if he knows that his dad is proud of him. A son is always asking the question, are you proud of me? Do I measure up? Do you think I am the wild warrior?
I have seen so many Dad’s strikeout in this situation. It takes a Dad who understands that there is more on the line than the game to win in this situation. That is the difference between a minor league dad and a major league dad.
He could have rushed out of the ballpark and got in his car, but he didn’t. He didn’t hang his head in shame. He had to choose which role he would walk out of the park playing that night. He chose to play the hero.
As a student pastor I deal with so many parents that love their kids with “if’s and when’s” attached to it. Not my Dad, not his love. Love, that is true love, never has “if or when attached to it.” It is hard for many of my students to understand that Abba’s love is not conditional. That God loves us for free. There is nothing I can do to make God love me anymore and there is nothing I can do to make him love me any less, he just loves me!
I wonder sometimes what would have happened if that ball would have cleared the left field fence. Maybe some things would have changed, most likely my ego and pride.
I realized the other day that in the big picture, it was not me that was really at bat. I was the one that everyone saw, but it was my Dad who had one of the biggest “at-bats” of his and my life. I gave it all I had that night, but I just didn’t get all of the ball. Dad…his is still going!

THE WORD

While He (Jesus) was speaking, a bright cloud enveloped them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him.”
Matthew 17:5

If the Jesus needed the encouragement and affirmation of love from God, his father, how much more do your son’s need that same affirmation?


THE APPLICATION

Step up to the plate! Begin to understand that things are not as they always seem. Take advantage of some of the greatest failures in your son’s life to display your unconditional love.
Warning...if your value comes from your son’s success or failure, you will never have the vision to see this kind of opportunity. You will be too consumed with the temporary to see the eternal value.
You can do this! If you will see that value in this lession...the ball you hit will never land! Remember, a son that knows his father is proud of him, can do anything in life.