To God and Nothing Else

I threw for the Blue Jays today. I threw 25 pitches, all knuckleballs, to about 6 hitters and it went well. It’s the 3^rd time the Blue Jays seen me throw and I find myself yet again waiting for a phone call to tell me yes, no, or maybe. About 8 months ago I decided that this is what I was going to do and I picked up and moved back home to give it the effort that it deserved. God put this on my heart and it was what I knew I needed to do. I’ve been learning how to pitch and trying to perfect the knuckleball since late October. It has gone better than I ever thought it would have. Literally, I never thought I would make it this far and yet I still find myself frustrated. I still find myself with a fire deep inside of me with nowhere to release it, no way to let it out.

I trotted out there today and threw my 25 knuckleballs and trotted back off the mound; this being the first time I’ve faced hitters since I was 15 years old, AAA hitters no less. One of the 25 was hit hard, a few pop-ups, a few ground balls, a few foul balls, and more than a couple made them swing and miss. But it wasn’t good enough. All I could think of on the mound was how I couldn’t find the feel, I was going to lose the feel, the next one was going to be sent somewhere into the surrounding Dunedin neighborhood.

I didn’t do bad, but therein lies the problem. I didn’t do great either. I’ve spent the whole rest of the day preparing myself for a phone call delivering bad news and wondering what to do next; waiting for a phone call I haven’t even gotten yet. Go talk to my other contacts? Look into independent ball? Lie down and quit? I did my best to put on my best and most hopeful face, but deep down I’ve known that the phone call was coming and I wasn’t going to like it.

Last night I prayed a simple prayer. “God give me this so that I might give it back to you.” I felt pretty good going into it; nervous, sure, but relaxed and confident enough. I threw, felt thoroughly disappointed just like I knew somewhere deep inside of me I would be. I sat in the car on the way home and prayed another simple prayer. “I trust you.” Whether I hear what I have longed for, what I desperately want to hear or not, I told God that I trusted Him…except I didn’t. If I trusted Him I wouldn’t have spent the rest of the day planning how to deal with my impending failure.

I’ve done this all along. Even as everyone I’ve talked to, both inside and outside of baseball has told me to pursue this I have waged an overwhelming battle inside of myself. Every opportunity has been an opportunity for this whole thing to become derailed. Every chance has been a chance to fail. I haven’t seen this as giving God a chance to show what He can do; I’ve seen them, each and every situation, as an opportunity to show how fallible I am. And this is what trusting looks like?

You hear people all the time say that someone somewhere in their past told them any number of discouraging things. “You’ll never amount to anything.” “You’re nothing but a failure.” “You’re useless.” “You’re pathetic.” And so on and so forth. I've had my fair share of naysayers and discouragers, but they hold no power over me. We have all had our fair share of these statements fired at us, but, again, they hold no power over us. It’s the fact that we continue to repeat these things over and over in our minds and in our hearts that holds us captive. It enslaves us. It oppresses us. And each time we repeat these things we fall deeper and deeper under their spell.

 I don’t care what anyone said. I don’t care what anyone has done. If God has brought you somewhere then that’s exactly where you belong. The doubts, the fears, the insecurities are all lies, every single one. If God brings you there, you better believe He has you there for a very good reason and you are perfectly suited, equipped, and prepared to be there.

I have realized that I am a liar. Not a liar in the traditional sense, but one much worse. Every day I feed myself a steady diet of lies, of worthless, useless drivel that eats away at my heart and soul and leaves me a crippled, broken mess. Every lie I tell myself chips away at the man that God has so painstakingly crafted after His own heart. I am better than this. I am meant for more than this. And I will not quit, will not stop until I see myself exactly where God has promised me I’ll go.

Submissive to God and nothing else. Especially not myself. I am a horrible, rotten liar bent on wrecking and destroying everything that God and I have spent so much time, effort, and energy creating. I have invested so much time, sweat, tears, prayers, and just plain old-fashioned hard work into this. I cannot and will not allow myself to take this away from me and, more importantly, away from God. It is too important. I am too important. God is far, far too important.

“Present your bodies as a living and holy sacrifice.” I laid my life down, died to myself, and was resurrected with Christ. My life is His. Every lie I tell myself is an attempt to reclaim what He has won, what He has purchased, what I have given to Him. I am not my own. He has brought me exactly where He wants me, which, not so coincidentally, is exactly where I want to be. But I’m done with the lies. This is my time. This is His time. This is our time.

The fire that burns inside me is pretty simple once it’s all boiled away. There is a lion inside of me that is destined and set aside for great things; things much greater than any I’m living now. I am better than this. I am meant for more than this. I am sick and tired for settling for anything less than greatness. Mediocrity is unacceptable. God has brought me here and I am going to kick the door in, grab opportunity by the throat and not let go until I have claimed exactly what God has already given me.

So let the fire burn. Let it bring me to exactly where I need to be to take hold of this. I will be submissive to God and nothing else, especially not myself. I will no longer allow myself to be enslaved by my fears and doubts and stupidity. I am trading in my mediocrity for God’s greatness.

It starts now.  

Enough

It will never be enough.

Never.

Ever.

Ever.

No mater what I do; what I accomplish; what I become it just will not be enough; will not be satisfactory; will not be adequate.

God is so perfect and I am so not. Every day the words that Paul wrote nearly 2000 years ago echo in my mind, “I do what I hate.” My intentions are pure and holy and righteous and every other God-honoring buzz word that can fit there, but at the end of the day I will always fall short. I will always fail. I will never be enough.

All I want to do is be the man that God has called me to be, created me to be. He expects amazing things from me. And for good reason! I praise God because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. He has designed me, built me with so many gifts, talents, abilities, and resources that He should expect amazing, incredible things from me. Not being something absolutely extraordinary would be a waste of so much, a waste of a life. And perhaps it is this pressure that I have placed upon myself that I am buckling under. My God demands perfection because He is perfect and yet I will never meet His expectations. Little else in this world does as much to sadden me.

I want to be everything I can be; to give Him back just a small portion of what He has given me. I want Him to look down upon me and be filled with awe and wonder, with pride and gratitude for all that I am doing for Him, with the man that I have become. Ultimately, this has been my undoing time and again. This has caused me to turn and flee time and again in crippling fear and shame. At the first hint of hardship, struggle, or failure I turned tail and ran unable to handle even the smallest hint of inadequacy. Each failure meant I was less than God expected me to be, than God created me to be, and less than I desperately wanted to be. With each failed attempt I came to better understand how worthless I am. Little else fills me with such fear and shame.

I wanted to do huge, inconceivable things for God because my God is altogether huge and inconceivable. In each ill-conceived attempt, however, I found myself further and further from God and from His will. It became MY struggle and nobody else’s. I needed to man up and become the man of God that He expects and needs me to be. I have to get this right! My life was spent flitting about from one thing to another hopelessly lost in my pursuit of something, anything that would make me worthy, make me great. I spent my life searching for that one thing that would fix me, that would make up for all the lost time and resources, that would redeem me. I spent years searching for something I would not find anywhere except one place. 

Ultimately, I was not satisfied with simply giving myself to God. I had to give Him more. I am not good enough as I am and so I must become greater. I must become more. Then, when I am this new and improved self, then I can give myself to God to use as He sees fit. How dare I.

God did not ask for a specific version of me. He did not ask for some superhuman version of me. He did not ask me to be anything greater than simply who I am. Who I am is powerful, strong, wise, and wholly amazing not because of anything I have done, will do, or can do but because of who made me and all that He has done, will do, and can do. How dare I refuse to give myself over to the only person who could make me exactly what I ache to be.

It’s almost funny. I tried so hard to be great, to be heroic, that I failed to see the only path to true greatness in the arms of the greatest hero. God has a wonderful habit of taking imperfect creatures and performing works beyond belief with them. He takes people and does the absolute unexpected with them. He takes broken, sinful, disgusting, deplorable, tired people and makes them a living, breathing miracle. 

It reflects how little I have thought of God for so very long. It’s selfish really. It reflects a lack of trust and faith that God would be unable to take me just as I am and do whatever He wants to with it. I did not trust God to make the most of me if I gave myself to Him. It was a lack of trust, a lack of faith, and ultimately a complete lack of hope.

It is not my job to make myself worthy of a miracle; that would be a miracle in and of itself. My job is merely to give this sinful, miserable, broken life to the one true God and to step back and watch what He does with it. It is not my job to do anything except give myself to God and then ride along on a greater journey than I could ever imagine on my own. It is not about me. It is completely about Christ and Christ alone. He must become greater; I must become less. 

Wherever God takes me in this life will be so much greater than anywhere I could have taken myself. I have been promised this and I cling to that promise. God will take my life and do infinitely more than I could on my own. God will make me a miracle. 

I passionately give my life to Jesus Christ and I ask Him to do with me what He will. I know that I will never be enough, but the beautiful thing is that I do not have to be. I do not have to be great; Jesus is. I do not have to be perfect; Jesus is. I do not have to be anything more than I am; Jesus turns small gifts and small lives into huge, inconceivable things. This is my trust. This is my hope.

Even though I will never be enough, my Jesus is.

He will always be enough.

Forever.

And ever.

And ever.

Wouldn't Have It Any Other Way

I hurt.

Physically, I hurt. Of course I hurt. My knee is healing slowly but surely. All things considered, I am actually surprised and pleased at the progress that I have made and am continuing to make. I have a long way to go, but I am able to look at the whole situation in a positive light. It will get better and I’ll have a cool scar to show my grandchildren. It may not be the best souvenir I could have brought home from my summer in the sun, but it certainly is a conversation piece. It simply adds character to my already quite distinguished personality. The pain is a small price to pay to be healthy. The pain is tolerable…the physical pain anyway.

Emotionally, I hurt. Existentially, I hurt. Spiritually, I hurt. Never would I have imagined that it would be this hard. Truth be told, I didn’t think it would be difficult at all. I suppose I just assumed that I would transition from one lifestyle to another and do so with grace and poise and never even have the desire to look back. Well, it turns out that when you’ve spent your entire life working and fighting, sacrificing and saving, aching and longing, dreaming for one singular thing only to have it slip away then that transition couldn’t possibly be a smooth one. I look back at where I’ve been and I look ahead to where I will never be and quite simply, I hurt.

When I was playing little league baseball there was a father on our team who I know for a fact was the only 6^th grader to make the baseball team at his middle school. The only one! This man was probably 40 years old but strutted like a peacock everywhere he went because he and only he made that team as a 6^th grader. He told anyone and everyone who would listen. I promised myself I would never be that man; that I would never allow myself to be that man. Maybe he didn’t realize how ridiculous his statement was, but it was just as crazy as it sounds here. Everyone who heard this man’s story, which was quite possibly every person in west Jefferson parish, gave him a patronizing smile and snickered as soon as he turned around. He was completely consumed in pride over something he did when he was maybe 11 years old. Maybe if he set a state rushing record or won a state championship, but to brag about making a junior high baseball team….dude, get a life.

He was stuck in the past, the ancient past, but at least he had something to be proud of. I look back and I see very little to be proud of; all I see is failed opportunities. I turned down 2 schools that would have been an absolutely dream to play for; one of which was my actual dream school. Literally, it was the school that I grew up dreaming to play for. I look back and I know that if I had just made better decisions; if I had just followed my heart; done what I KNEW I should have then I could have something to look back on and be proud of. I could have something to look back on and smile. I could have a place to take my children and say to them, “This is what I was a part of.” Instead, I look back and all I see is failure. I see screw-ups and mistakes. I see decisions made based on fear and ignorance. I see failed opportunities to be a part of something that would have been the experience of a lifetime. I see scars all over my body that are an ever present reminder of exactly what I missed out on. I see no lifelong friendships. I see no championship rings. I don’t even see any pictures hanging on the walls. All I have to remember my college baseball career is a few home run balls, some fading t-shirts, a broken down body, and the knowledge that I legitimately had the potential to be and do something great and now there is no way that I will ever be able to be anything close to that. I look at myself and all I see is me, hurting.

I realized that I was turning into just a different version of the former 6^th grade phenom, just worse. I wasn’t just wrapped up in the past, but consumed by past regrets. You just want to sit there and punch yourself, scream at yourself, punish yourself for being so stupid. “If you had just done the right thing!” internally you scream. You want to know why God didn’t guide you, direct you in the right path, show you what to do. The more you think about it the more then the more you obsess over it. The more you are consumed by it the angrier you become until finally you look at yourself and all there is to see is a bitter person lost to regret and remorse. You're completely unable to offer anything to anyone; you're a waste of a life. I realized that I had allowed myself to become bitter. I just knew that my life has been unfair and I deserve better and so I have been filled with bitterness, bit by the proverbial bitter bug.

I know I’m not the only one. I don’t think there is a single person who doesn’t look back on their past without some regret, some pain, some disappointment. The motto, “No regrets!” is a lie, plain and simple. We all have them and they can either destroy us or we can allow God to use them to take us where He wants us. There are people all across the world who have briefly contemplated the possibilities of time travel because of things in their past that still cause them pain; pain that’s just as real and just as fresh as the moment the wound was inflicted. Pain that still drops us to our knees, racks us with sobs, and fills us with despair, and overflows us with sadness. Maybe you failed out of school and are now permanently labeled a screw-up. Maybe you had an affair and in one night threw away a marriage that was supposed to last a lifetime. Maybe you gambled all your money away or poured it down your throat with beer cans and bottles of wine. Maybe you got behind the wheel when you shouldn’t have and now one family’s life will never be the same. Maybe you got into a fight with a best friend, or a brother, or a sister and said some things you never should have said and now you’ll never be able to take them back. Maybe you didn’t go see your mom when you were told to and now you’ll never see her again. Maybe you didn’t go see your son’s baseball game or your daughter’s dance recital and now the time for making memories is over and their disappointed, tear-stained face is all you can see every time you close your eyes. Maybe you didn’t kick a bad habit when you still had the chance and now you have a disease that you’ll never get rid of. Maybe after one night of passion you now have a living, breathing thing that is completely dependent on you and will now be your whole life whether you like it or not. Maybe you didn’t show her that you loved her and now you have to live knowing that somebody else is making her happier and loving her more than you ever could. Maybe you made one mistake that you will pay for for the rest of your life. Maybe you sent one text, said one word, did one thing that you’ll never be able to take back. Maybe somebody hurt you; did something to you that replays itself over and over in your mind. Maybe your parents divorced. Maybe someone you loved died. Maybe you were diagnosed with a life-threatening disease. Maybe you went through something that you were completely unprepared for and you haven’t been able to deal with it. Maybe you’ve been through and experienced one of a million different things that has caused you to be filled with regret. Maybe you’re angry. Maybe you’re bitter.

Maybe you hurt.

“You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good. He brought me to this position so I could save the lives of many people.”

Genesis 50:20

I heard the story of Joseph and his beautiful technicolor coat countless times. I heard it over and over probably beginning in pre-K Sunday School (logically, shouldn’t that be called Sunday preschool?) and continuing on to sermons from the pulpit, but I had never really heard this verse from the end of the story in the last chapter of Genesis (I love it when God reveals something to me from something that I thought you knew backwards and forwards; it just shows how awesome He is and how little I know, but I digress). If there was anybody who had a reason to be bitter it was Joseph. From birth, he lived a charmed existence during which he has these dreams where all of his brothers bow down before him. He must have thought that with the way things were going and with these dreams he was having that life was going to be pretty sweet. Turns out, it was anything but. First, his brothers hate him because he's their father’s favorite so they throw him into a pit so that they wouldn’t have to physically kill him. Then, they decide that instead of leaving him to die they should sell him into slavery so that his blood will not be on their hands. He goes and actually prospers as a slave being given control of his master’s entire household. Then when things are beginning to look up for young Joseph he gets falsely accused of rape and is thrown into prison. While he’s in prison he is given responsibility over all the prisoners and the prison itself. He helps out one of the king’s attendants by interpreting a dream and the man promises to get Joseph out of jail, but forgets until two whole years later when he’s finally released from prison and promptly named second in command over the entirety of Egypt so that he could oversee the land during the coming feast and famine. He was 17 when he was sold into slavery and he was 30 when he was released from prison. That means his freedom was denied him for 13 years. He was just a teenager when it happened, do you think he understood why any of this was happening? Do you think he thought that his life was unfair? Do you think that he regretted not having a better relationship with his brothers? Do you think that by year 12 he probably thought that he would never escape from this lifestyle of slavery and prison? Most people would have given up, but not Joseph and there’s one very important reason why. No matter where Joseph went the Bible says that the Lord was with Joseph and you know what? The Lord is with you and has been all along whether you realize it or not.

The fact is, through it all, Joseph remained faithful and it is this faith that he shows to his brothers over 20 years later when they are nearly starving to death and they come to him to ask for food. He doesn’t look at them with anger. He doesn’t have even an ounce of bitterness or hatred when he looks at them. All he says is that God took something so terrible and made it into something altogether perfect. If he hadn’t been sold into slavery he never would have been put in charge of Potiphar’s house. If he had never been accused of rape by Potiphar’s wife then he never would have been in prison. If he had never been in prison then he could have never interpreted the king’s cupbearer’s dream who made it possible for Joseph to interpret Pharaoh’s dream. If he had not been there to interpret Pharaoh's dream then he would have been put in charge of the entire land of Egypt and millions of lives would have been lost. If Joseph had never been through the pain then he never would have been in a position to change the world. All the pain, all the doubts, all the suffering, all the sacrifice, all the hurting was all worth it. In fact, it wasn't just worth it. I know he wouldn’t have it any other way.

God sent me this message exactly when I needed it. I was laying up, recuperating from knee surgery and my knee was hurting and my heart was aching. I was consumed with self pity and regret and bitterness and an all encompassing sadness that washed over me and threatened to suffocate me. But God showed me with one verse that I had probably read 50 times that if I had never hurt my ankle I never would have gone to Samford. If I had chosen to go anywhere but Samford I never would have gone to Delgado. If I hadn’t gone to Delgado I would have never gone to UNLV. If I hadn’t have hurt my shoulder at UNLV I would have gone back for another year and never would have gone to Laredo. If I hadn’t gotten released from Laredo I never would have gone to Macon to play for the Pinetoppers. If I had never gone to Macon I never would have had been in the exact right spot doing the exact right thing at the exact right time to be blessed with the amazing ministry that is the Orlando Freedom. Maybe, just maybe God has brought me through all this just so that just like Joseph I could save the lives of many. There’s more if’s and never’s than I can begin to wrap my mind around; more coincidences that God has orchestrated than I could ever realize, but just know this: All the pain, all the doubts, all the suffering, all the sacrifice, and all the hurting was all worth it. In fact, it wasn't just worth it. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

With that in mind I no longer hurt.

I smile.

All About the Love

Apparently I will be playing a substantially diminished role with the Pinetoppers. I have to come to realize, however, that perhaps that's not such a bad thing.

If you remember, we play at the same ballpark every day and now we play the exact same team every single day, but we are the only team that represents Macon and so we are permanently the home team. This means that we always get to hit last; we get to show up to the ballpark later; we get the better dugout; we get the better locker room; we get the better helmets; we get asked to sign autographs; we get songs played for us as we walk up to bat and during batting practice; and we get to be cheered for on a regular basis. Trust me, I realize how completely unfair this is to the Albanidgeville Robins Capital Quail Aviators (that would be the other 3 teams combined into one away team); however, I am just a player with no voice with which to speak to the powers that be. Besides, seeing as how I wound up on the good side of the deal I have chosen not to dwell upon the injustices of the Peach State League as a whole and instead concentrate on making the most of my unique opportunity and have the best experience possible as a Macon Pinetopper.

Tonight was my first opportunity to really get the "home team" experience. Saturday nights at Luther Williams Field are really a lot of fun. The seats are filled and I was pleasantly surprised to learn that this may very well be the best crowd I've ever played in front of. When the fans show up, they are completely and totally into the game unlike anywhere else I've been. It may just be a thousand people but they cheer like they're at least five times that size...really pretty cool.

That's not my favorite part, though. The best part is that this ballpark is absolutely crawling with kids. Every single one of them wants to give you a high five, cheer for you, talk to you, and most of all, beg for baseballs. There is no telling how many baseballs I gave away tonight. Since I was never told not to I can claim ignorance, but I had to have single-handedly caused a ball shortage in the Peach State League tonight. After the game there was a huge hula hoop contest on the field which I just had to get in on even though I lost miserable though I will say I probably performed better than anyone in the park would have imagined beforehand. I even got to save the little girl who eventually won it when her hula hoop broke. She was hooping along when the thing just plain busted and she was seconds away from busting into tears when I flew in and saved the day with a new hula hoop. We then had a surprisingly impressive fireworks show followed by meeting and signing autographs and taking pictures with hundreds of fans young and old down on the field. In a span of maybe twenty minutes I had a chance to make hundreds of people smile and feel special and I have been on an absolute emotional high ever since. Seriously, how amazing is that? Just by smiling at someone and being kind I might have made a hundred people's day. That is just plain ridiculous! That, not being a hall of famer or an all-star, is the real dream come true. I may not be playing every day or even every other day, but I can honestly say I have never enjoyed playing baseball as much as I am right now.

Baseball and I have always had a love-hate relationship, but tonight it's all about the love.

A Fork in the Base Path

Sit and listen as I tell a tale that I really wish I could have made up.

I've always thought of myself as a storyteller. Ever since I was a child I had a penchant to tell stories, to weave facts together in a tapestry that captures the interest and imagination of an audience. Over the years I have developed and honed this skill into an art and it has certainly been of substantial benefit when speaking in front of crowds. I just needed a story to tell. In the past, I'd been disappointed that others could stand up and tell stories about their salvation experience that really made you take notice of the fact that God can really save anyone anywhere anytime. I heard stories about how a person was as lost as they could be but they were still found by a loving and caring God and I was jealous of their ability to draw from their experience to tell a story. Saying it now, how stupid is it that I was jealous of someone else for having to endure of life of misery and of sin just so they could tell a story? It's really kind of sick. Well, I don't need to feel silly jealousies any longer. Lately, it really seems like the Father has seen fit to give me more stories than I would have asked for and despite all my practice and ability I seriously doubt that I have the skill necessary to spin this particular yarn.

At 9 o'clock Monday morning two lists were posted showing the new rosters for the Peach State League. This list would basically determine if I would ever really get my shot. This league was my last chance to do what I had always dreamed of. I didn't sleep the night before. I knew that I was good enough to play at this level and at the next, but something didn't feel right. For whatever reason I had very little confidence that my name was going to be on that list and there really wasn't a single reason for me to not be on that list, but I had a sinking feeling all the same. I lay in bed and waited trying to convince myself that I was worrying for nothing. God had His hand on me and I would be just fine. At 9 o'clock I climbed out of bed and slowly walked down the three flights of stairs to find the list that had all of my hopes and dreams, my entire baseball career written on it. I read the list of players for the one team and then the other. I read the lists again. And again. My name was not on the list. This dream had been ripped away from me and then it was miraculously given back to me and now there I stood feeling as though I had just been hit by a train. I stood there and stared at the list as a wave of emotions rolled over me. This couldn't be happening. There is no way they could keep me from playing. There is no way God could allow this to happen. But there was no mistaking that, yes, it did happen and I was no longer a baseball player.

Numb, I headed back upstairs to shower. I got out of the shower and just started to pack. I've never packed so quickly in my entire life. I threw everything I had into my suitcase and a duffel bag; gave away my refrigerator; threw everything into my car; said some good-byes; and I left. I was angry, disappointed, confused, depressed, and disillusioned. Yet again in my life, I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I knew exactly where I was and where I was headed and once again, life had beaten me to the ground and left me there bleeding and crying. The drive home lasted 5 hours. I had 5 hours to sit and do nothing but drive and think and all I could think of was why and what now? I knew I would get through it and come out standing up tall and proud, but all I could think of is if I can't even do this then who's to say anything else will work out? Maybe I'm just a failure. Maybe I'm just destined to never live up to any of the potential that lives within me. Maybe I'm just a waste of a life...worthless. And for the last fifteen minutes of my drive home I wept uncontrollably beating the steering wheel as I was racked by sobs that had stubbornly waited years and years to fall. I wept for every time I failed. I wept for every time I had been disappointed. I wept for every failed relationship. I wept for all the people I've disappointed. I wept for what had amounted to 23 years wasted.

I pulled in my driveway and turned my car off, but I couldn't get out. As soon as I got out and I entered my home then it would really be over. I don't know how long I just sat there wishing I could just crawl into a hole and hide. My mom finally came out to check on me and I saw the hurt in her face as she saw my face swollen from crying and she came over and did the only thing she knew to do. She hugged me. And in that moment I was no longer a 23 year old man I was just a little boy being held by his momma.

Finally, I made my way into the house. I opened the door; took one step inside; and was frozen by a vibration in my pocket...my phone was ringing. Frozen with one foot inside the door I looked down at my phone and saw a number I didn't recognize. I answered the phone and for the second time that day I was left breathless. They had made a mistake. I was supposed to stay and when I didn't show up for the meeting they checked the list and found that I had been accidentally left off. They wanted to know where I was and when I told them I was home they asked if I would be willing to drive back. Without hesitation, I answered yes. I would miss the game the next day because it was at 10:30, but I would be there on Wednesday for the game at 7. I hung up the phone and looked at my mom who had just come in and all I could do was just laugh. Not because it was funny; it wasn't funny until later, but because after this emotional roller coaster day, laugh was the only thing I had left to do to.

So, I'm back in Macon and now I'm a Pinetopper. I'm actually playing for the home team and I get my own locker and everyday I'm asked to sign autographs and shake hands and catch ceremonial first pitches. But, most importantly, I learned one very important thing; relearned I suppose I should say because it was something I knew all along just forgot. I again realized that God is in control of my life and that no matter where I go or what I'm doing, He will always be there. Life punches hard. It will throw everything it's got and then some and the only way to take the hits is to trust in the Lord. The only thing that will never change is that everything changes...everything except God.

The LORD is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer, my God is my rock in whom I take refuge.

Psalm 18:2

A Sleepless Night

A lot has happened in the few days since my last blog post...a whole lot.

First, the good news. yesterday (Saturday) I went 3 for 5 with 2 RBIs in my game against Warner Robbins. I have been seeing the ball exceptionally well and I knew it was only a matter of time and sure enough I broke out getting 3 hits in my last 3 at-bats. It's a good day when you double your season hit total and it felt good...extremely good. And then the floor fell out from under my feet.

It was no secret that the league was struggling. All you needed to do was look at the attendance numbers to know that the league wasn't exactly raking in cash, but I don't think any of us knew how bad it really was. After the game, Eddie (our manager) sat us down in the clubhouse and he basically told us that the league was going to be making some changes. Instead of having 4 teams the league was going to condense to 2 teams; the Macon Pinetoppers and then another team that will play the role of the other 3 teams depending on who Macon is supposed to play. First, this means that some players will be going home. They're expanding to a 30 man roster, but there would still be far too many players for just 2 teams. Second, this means that the Albany Quails as we know it will cease to exist. I have grown to like this ragtag group of guys that make up my team. While it is true that they often drive me completely insane we've grown into a family and our family is being forced to break up and it hurts a little bit. I've never been one to have a lot of friends and I haven't done a very good job of maintaining the friendships I did have, but I felt like some real friendships were growing and it is extremely disappointing to face the prospect of losing people that now call friends. More than that, however, I'm scared that I'm going to have to go home.

If I didn't love baseball life would be so much easier. My body would have far fewer scars and I would probably have a degree from an Ivy League school. I have chased a dream and it has hurt me time and time again and I just feel like when they post the new rosters in 5 hours or so that I'm just going to be burned one more time again. I just want to play baseball. I just want the opportunity to play and see if I sink or swim. I don't feel like I've gotten that opportunity yet, especially not here where I only have 27 at-bats in 17 games. In my entire lifetime I have now caught 10 and a half games. The number of games I've caught in the Peach League: 10. I know in my heart and in my mind that I can succeed in this game I just need to be given the chance. On top of that, I've been shown what kind of absolutely amazing ministry opportunities come with being a baseball player and they only get bigger and better from here. That excites me more than anything else. I know I'm not the only one, but I just want my shot. Honestly, is that too much to ask?

I find out in the morning. I've done well recently, but I just hope that it wasn't too little too late. All I know is that God has an amazing plan for me and that if I wake up and don't find my name on that list then there's something in store for me, again, that is beyond my wildest dreams.

On a side note, if the ride is over at least I went out going 3 for 3.

Living for the Moment

Life is full of great moments. Usually when we recall great moments in our lives we think of monumental occasions...birthdays, weddings, promotions, big successes or perhaps in my case championships and such. However, I truly believe that the greatest moments in life are ones that we barely even remember 6 months down the road. Sometimes we find ourself in need of encouragement and support. We may not even know it but we could be dangerously close to reaching a point where we can no longer move forward in our lives or maybe we're just one step away from slipping into depression and then from somewhere completely unexpected we find exactly what we needed to sustain us and to help us persevere.

I know a little something about perseverance. In the past 5 years my life has been filled with things that I had to push through in order to get to a more important part of my life. In high school right before the Major League draft I found myself in a wheelchair after having to have an ankle reconstruction. I had my faith tested while surrounded by hypocrisy and lies at Samford University my freshman year. After leaving Samford I missed two seasons when my thumb virtually detached itself from my hand. And then, again, at UNLV after being completely disappointed with my situation bad turned worse when I severely dislocated my shoulder completely tearing my labrum and needing 5 screws to anchor my shoulder in place. And this is just the short list. Time after time I was forced to face adversity head on and each time I somehow prevailed. In retrospect, I realize that I am exactly who I am supposed to be. I hold firm to the idea that God used each twist and turn to mold me into the unique child of God that I am. But, on top of that, I believe that God sent me moments, moments that I don't even remember, to help me to persevere.

In my last blog I wrote about the frustrations I've been having with the league and with my own performance on the baseball field. I was beginning to be consumed with worry that I wouldn't be able to turn it around and that, basically, all this effort would be wasted because noone is going to pick up a 23 year old catcher hitting under the Mendoza Line (under .200...google it). In my heart I knew this was the wrong mentality to have, but when baseball is all you do and all you think, you can't help but live and die by the crack of the bat. However, when I needed it the most God sent me a moment that helped to pull me out from the pit I was quickly digging myself and He did it in ways both completely obvious and unpredictable and then in ways I still can't wrap my little brain around.

I went to church on Sunday. I had the day off and I was excited to get to worship somewhere, anywhere. We had called the Director of Missions, a man named Bob Franklin, to see if there were any ministry opportunities for me here in Macon while I was playing. He invited my family and I to attend church with him at Tabernacle Baptist Church on July 4th. We showed up and everyone was extremely friendly just like a good Southern Baptist church should be. Bob spoke briefly telling the church about an honor they had received at the annual convention. Then he decided to let the congregation know that among them that morning was a professional baseball player. He personally recognized me in front of the 300+ person congregation. I am not a person easily embarrassed and I don't think I have ever actually blushed...I can now say that my first blush was at Tabernacle Baptist Church. The service was fantastic; good music and great preaching. The pastor wanted me to give him a sample of me preaching. After church, we were invited to have some serious down home southern cooking at the Franklins' home. It was exactly what I needed. I got to spend the afternoon immersed in the love of God. Bob Franklin was beyond encouraging and the whole afternoon was just a complete blessing. Every time that I get to talk about my calling with someone else who has experienced the same call it just reaffirms what I know the Lord has planned for me. It is my hope and my prayer that first I can remain in contact with Mr. Franklin and second that he can make me very busy for the remainder of my time in Macon. I honestly believe that the more I serve the Lord the better I'll do on the ballfield.

We played the next day and before the game Rick Wade, the coach of the Milledgeville Capitals and I were talking when he completely floored me by saying that the night before the Lord laid it on his heart that after the game the two teams should meet together on the field and pray. Sure enough, after the game we met in front of the pitcher's mound and there were only three people who chose not to come. That means that there were about 40 guys kneeling together on our respective field of play and going to God together. It was a new experience for me, one that made me proud and humble at the same time. Rick asked if anyone wanted to lead the prayer and I volunteered. I prayed for no more than a minute earnestly thanking God for this amazing opportunity. Being able to do that and feel comfortable doing that was just such an amazing feeling, something I've waited my entire baseball career for. After the prayer I was able to have conversations with teammates about their own prayers, their church experiences, and just their general faith. Once again, this whole experience took on a brand new meaning. My team and really this entire league is filled with Christians or at least guys that are on the fence about their faith. The best mission field I have is the locker room. Maybe this is one of the biggest reasons I'm even here to be available to my teammates and to show them the love of Christ. Things just continue to take new meaning. My eyes were opened to a whole new purpose for me being here.

Definitely a moment sent by God.

On a side note, I've continued to hit well and I just know that any game now I will break out and then there's no looking back...hopefully soon.