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.

A Little Frustrated

It feels like I'm barely playing now that we have another catcher and we switch off every game. If we play 6 games in a week then I'm only playing 3 and neither of the two of us gets to hit on our days off. When you haven't seen live pitching in over a year you need at-bats to get your eyes back, get your timing back, and just get your swing back in general. We're two weeks in and I only have 20 at-bats. Whatever strides I make in one day are basically dashed because I have to sit out the next day. I can't get in a rhythm, I can't build on what I did yesterday, and I largely don't get to take any batting practice. It's just getting a little frustrating. Everyone's goal is to get out of this league and into one that is bigger and better; me included. And when you only have 20 at-bats after 12 games, who's going to really look at that and who could actually assess my ability as a ballplayer based on stats that don't tell the whole story at all. The frustration is twofold though. I have only 20 at-bats and statistically I've been largely unsuccessful in those at-bats and when it looks like I'm going to only get 80 at-bats this year I can't help but begin to worry that I'm digging myself a hole I can't get out of.

To be honest I came in to this whole experience with doubts. I doubted that I would be able to compete after being out of the game. I had doubts that after so many injuries and surgeries that my body would be able to hold up. I even had doubts that this is even what I truly wanted. What I have discovered is that I can definitely play at a much higher level; I have been almost shocked at how well my body has held up thus far; and finally, I now know that I want this more than I ever have before. I honestly cannot adequately describe how much I want this and how much this means to me. For the first time in I can't even tell you how long when I get up to head to the field I'm genuinely excited and happy even when our games are played at 10am in front of a maximum of 10 people. It's like I've become reacquainted with an old friend...like a romance rekindled. It just feels right. Perhaps it's just that the whole experience has taken on a new meaning; that I see baseball with a new set of eyes. It's no longer just a game and it's no longer a matter of winning and losing, succeeding and failing. It's become a gift from God...literally every time I step onto the field it is a gift from God and God wants us to use the gifts He gives to glorify Him. Perhaps if I can keep that in mind and keep that perspective that will take away much of the frustration, the anxiety, and the worrying.

"It's not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game."
...this saying takes on a new meaning, doesn't it?

The Crowd Pleaser

After taking the 1st game from the Pinetoppers we lost the next 2. All in all, however, I feel pretty good about the team. A lot of the guys on our team have a lot of talent; it just needs to be refined and that's exactly what this league is for.

This leagues lasts a total of 42 games and apparently the Macon Pinetoppers will be the home team in all 42 of their games so you kind of have to deal with the fact that you'll never really have anyone cheering for you...unless you're me. The Monday game was Camp Day at Luther Williams Field so we had around 100 kids from a Summer camp in attendance. We also just happened to have a 2 hour rain delay before the game started. Seeing my opportunity I grabbed one of our pitchers named Mike Bzozowski (awesome guy...his glove was blessed by the Pope!) and the two of us went up in the stands to hang out with some kids...definitely the best decision I've made all summer. I signed everything from normal stuff like balls, ticket stubs, and hats to things a bit stranger like a Bakugan (I think that's how you spell it...crazy kids) card, a "Go Pinetoppers" poster, and most of the kids' arms. We took picture after picture and really just got to love on some kids and really make their day and maybe their whole week. Every one of them got a high five and a hug and I just hope that I made them feel special and important. If how loud they cheered for me was any indication, I did a good job...such an amazing feeling.

There were two or three things that really stand out in my memory. When we first went up all the kids rushed over but were immediately yelled at by one of their chaperones. She told them in very stern language that the line to meet the ballplayers started with her. We signed her stuff and took pictures with her. 2nd, was the girl who shook my hand and then told me she was never going to wash her hand where I'd touched her. I can remember saying the exact same thing to some of the ballplayers at the New Orleans Zephyrs games when I was their age. I remember how much I looked up to those guys and if these kids looked up to me in that same way then I feel absolutely honored and humbled and just blessed beyond belief to have this ridiculously amazing opportunity. It really puts things into perspective. I may have a bad game or a bad couple of games but it really shouldn't matter. Every day I get to wake up and do something that so many people can only dream of. If that weren't enough I don't just get to play this game, but I get to be somebody's hero. It's what I've always wanted, but I realize now that if I had been given this opportunity when I thought I deserved it I wasn't ready. I may have been ready to compete at that level, but being someone's hero is a huge responsibility. God's timing is perfect and He has matured me to a point where I will definitely make the most of this opportunity. Hopefully, when these kids look at me as a hero they see my hero...my Savior and Lord.

On a side note I finally got a hit in the 6th game. I knew it was just a matter of time, but I would have loved for it to come a little sooner. Now the hit parade can commence.

Let the Grind Begin

The headaches have gone away for the most part and I'm continuing to catch on a regular basis though after 4 games I still haven't gotten a hit, but still not worried. I'm hitting the ball the way I would want to just haven't had the desired results...sooner or later they'll fall in.

We finally got another catcher so on a positive note I won't have to torture myself catching every single day and catching bullpens. On a not so positive note, I won't be playing quite as much because he and I will be switching off on a day-by-day basis, but it's the lesser of two evils.

We finished our 3 game series against the Aviators winning 1 and losing 2 and we got to play our 1st game against the hometown Macon Pinetoppers. Every Saturday at historic Luther Williams Field is fireworks extravaganza night so I was excited to get to play in front of a crowd and see some fireworks after the game. Well, after a dramatic comeback we found ourselves leading the Toppers 5-4 going into the bottom of the 9th when lightning struck right behind the centerfield fence and we entered into a lightning delay that would take over an hour. However, during the hour long delay I got to sit right outside the dugout and talk to a group of kids. We signed baseballs, ticket stubs, shirts, hats, and I even got to sign a kid's cast. I gave one little boy a bat that had been broken and his face lit up like it was Christmas. When I dreamed of being a big-time ballplayer this was what I dreamed of. It takes almost nothing to make a lasting impact on the life of a child. It seriously was almost nothing for us to just step out and sign autographs and take pictures and just be nice to kids, but in their life it could be something they'll remember forever. I sincerely hope and pray for more opportunities just like this one; not to play the game, but to get to be a role model...to get to be a little kid's hero for a night. Hopefully, when I get these opportunities they get to see and feel the love of God...that's what this is all about.

In the 5th chapter of Ephesians, Paul tells us to make the most of every opportunity. In the game of baseball, every at-bat counts. You never know who is watching you. We've always been told that at any given game there could be a scout in the stands and every game could be your one opportunity so play every game like it could be your last. In life we should have the same attitude. Spending time with kids seems like such a small thing, but it was making the most of an opportunity. Every time we come into contact with someone or really anytime anyone sees us is an opportunity for us to show them the love of God. Every time we lose our temper, lose our self-control, or exhibit any number of behaviors that aren't pleasing to God it is a wasted opportunity and for the rest of this summer it is my goal to not waste a single opportunity on the field and more importantly not waste a single opportunity off the field.

On a side note, in our games against Macon I get see their special batboy...a golden retriever named Jake the Diamond Dog. He's been trained to bring out the game ball, bring the umpires water and a towel, and retrieve the bats. He even chose Lindsey as the sweetheart of the game...gotta love minor league baseball.

1 Game and 1 Concussion

1 game and 1 concussion.

Yes, concussion. In the 7th inning a Warner Robins Aviator slid into home headfirst and somehow I got kicked in the side of my head Karate Kid style. To give you a visual just envision the way a scorpion whips his stinger over his back to attack the unsuspecting victim. In the same manner I was roundhouse kicked to the face. I laid there for a good two minutes before coming to my senses and was walked back to the dugout where I sat in a daze for another half hour or so until I was taken to the hospital to be checked out. The best part was that as I was sitting in the dugout I hadn't removed any of my catcher's gear, not even my glove. Maybe thirty minutes after the collision I look down and realize that I still have all of this on. It was then that I also notice that I still had the ball in my glove. I got knocked flat out, didn't lose the ball, and apparently somewhere in my subconscious felt it necessary to continue to hold on to the ball without even realizing it. For some reason, this made the concussion quite bearable...a badge of honor you could say. If nothing else, I will always be able to say that in my first minor league baseball game I got a concussion and HELD ON TO THE BALL! .......Heck yes.

Anyway, I went to the hospital where I waited and waited and waited and waited until I finally was given a cat scan. But, since it was after-hours there wasn't anyone at the Macon hospital to read the scan so they sent it to Australia for a radiologist there to take a look at it since there it was in the middle of the workday. So, I had a doctor from all the way across the world tell me that I was going to be fine. My concussion was quite literally a worldwide event.
After 3 hours of sleep I came back the next day and caught again...still with the concussion. I did a pretty good job, especially considering the circumstances. I even threw three runners out and to top it all off had another play at the plate where the runner mercifully slid in to home instead of trying to give me concussion number 2.

All in all, haven't got a hit yet in 5 at-bats, but I've gotten my feet wet and I feel pretty good about things so far. As a team, we lost yesterday and won today making us 1-1.

On a side note I'd really like to know how I got on a team with nothing but people from the north? I didn't know people in New Jersey played baseball and we have something like 6 guys from Jersey...weird

Playing for the Peach

I have arrived in Macon, Georgia where I will be playing low level minor league baseball for the rest of the foreseeable summer. It isn't where I wanted to be and it certainly isn't where I thought I'd be, but I am genuinely excited to be here. Actually, I might be the only person in the Peach State League who is genuinely happy to be playing here.

I went through spring training with the Laredo Broncos of the United League but on the last day I was released because they decided they wanted a player that has experience and that just happens to be the one thing I am lacking. And so you're caught in some catch-22. You can't get experience without playing and you can't play without experience...quite the predicament. Thus, I came to Macon, Georgia to play for the Albany Quails. You read that correctly. I am playing for a team in Albany, Georgia even though we never play a game in Albany. We even have an owner in Albany who may never even see a game. There are 4 teams in the league and all of them play their games here in Macon. However, the Macon team is always the home team. They get their own clubhouse, they're the only ones who get publicized, and it generally just seems a little unfair the way the other 3 teams are treated in comparison. We're all staying at Wesleyan College...an all girls school. So an extremely conservative all-girls Christian school is allowing 100 baseball players to stay at their dorms. Oh, and it's a dry campus. What could possibly go wrong?

I'm playing in a first-year league that is having some serious organization problems; staying in an all-girls dorm with 100 other guys; playing for a city I've never even been to; and at practice the night before our first game we had a total of 6 players.

To say the very least, this could be interesting...

Just Justin

"A man that doesn't have dreams isn't much of a man at all."
-Justin Bradley Aldridge

That's mine, but you can have it. Take it, use it, apply it, write it down, tell it to someone else, tattoo it on your forehead...do with it whatever you please because there is profound truth in those words. We were created to do great and amazing things and all great things begin as a dream; a dream to do something that make others stand up and take notice; things that inspire others to achieve that same greatness. There was a point in all of our lives when it was easy to dream; in fact, it was hard not to. When you were a child I know for a fact that you laid awake at night dreaming of how you were going to change the world. You dreamed of flying spaceships. You dreamed of curing incurable diseases. You dreamed of doing something better than anyone ever possibly could. You dreamed of being superheroes, sports legends, and rock stars. But most of all, you dreamed of doing exactly what you wanted to do and being exactly what you wanted to be and there wasn't a single person on this planet that could tell you that it was impossible.

So what happened? We had these huge dreams of being these ridiculously amazing things and now here we are going through life doing whatever we can just to get by. We've allowed life to beat us down. Life knocked us down over and over again and finally we just stayed there and now we're going through the motions, not taking any risks, just surviving. We've allowed the hardships of life to change the very essence of who we are and perhaps worst of all, we've allowed life to take away our ability to dream.

From the time I was 4 years old I dreamed of being a baseball player, a hall of fame, all-star baseball player. Funny thing was, I had the talent to do it and I put in all the work necessary to become as good as I wanted to be. However, it doesn't matter how good you are or how hard you've worked or how badly you want it when you start getting hurt. Out of high school right before the draft I blew out my ankle having to have an ankle reconstruction. After coming back from that, my thumb practically fell off my hand and for 4 months it was held onto my hand by wires. And last but not least while playing at UNLV I severely dislocated my shoulder and now have 5 screws holding my left shoulder into place. I had dreams...attainable dreams and more than once I was so close that I could taste it. But each time I got close life took a giant swing at me and knocked me firmly on my back and hovered over me, taunting me.

I've almost always been a Christian. I was saved when I was 5 years old. My granddad's an ordained minister, my mom is the director of the church's preschool, my dad teaches youth Sunday School, and my grandmother was the secretary for the Southern Baptist Association. To say that I was raised in a Christian home would be an understatement. I literally grew up in the Church and it shaped who I am. The problem was after hearing the same old things so many times there came a point when I took the whole thing for granted. I had a relationship with Christ, but it wasn't all that important. It was simply just another thing that I was, another adjective that could be used in the definition of me. What dominated who I was was baseball. I was baseball and that was how I defined myself. It was what I loved and what I lived. It gave me my identity. And so when baseball was taken away from me it was like I was stripped of my very identity. I didn't know who I was or why I existed. There was no purpose, no drive, and ultimately no dream.

After my last injury, the shoulder, I knew that my baseball career was over. It would be the 4th surgery in 5 years and exactly one week after the surgery I woke up with excruciating pain all down my arm; debilitating pain that did not go away for almost 6 months. The pain served as a constant reminder that I would never play professional baseball, that I would never see my dreams come true, that I would never be the man that I dreamed of being when I was child. That hurt far worse than any nerve damage possibly could.
I had always assumed that God's plan for my life was for me to be a famous ballplayer; why else would he give me this gift to hit a baseball? That was a huge part of why it hurt so much when that dream died. I found myself in a pit of depression and despair and I didn't know what to do or where to go. And it was then when I felt absolutely lost that God found me, pulled me up, held me close, and let me know that everything was under control.
I became filled with a fire for God that I had never felt before. It consumed me and all I wanted was to do exactly what He wanted me to do. It was at this point that I felt God calling me to a very specific purpose. I knew that God was calling me into the ministry; into a life of service. I officially submitted to His calling on a very emotional December Sunday. I don't know how it feels to hear your name called on draft day, but I can imagine that it doesn't feel nearly as good as what I felt standing in front of the church that day wrapped up in the embrace of my Granddad knowing that my life would never be the same.

It didn't take long for God to reveal other parts of His plan for me. I go to an amazing church that has given me opportunities to grow and to explore myself and my calling. Without West Orange Baptist Church, I don't know where I'd be. They gave me the opportunity to preach. And I discovered something, I'm pretty good at it. Actually, I discovered that God has given me a gift to preach, to speak the truth that is found in the Word and that the gift He has given me absolutely dwarfs any talent or ability I had to play the game of baseball. I've hit walk-off home runs and grand slams, but nothing feels better than standing up in the pulpit and preaching the Word of God. Up there I feel whole and complete; I feel like I am finally the kind of person I would have dreamed of becoming when I was a child.

If the story were to end there then it would be a good story if I do say so myself, but it doesn't. Psalm 37:4 says, "Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you your heart's desires." I sought God with all of my heart and found that my identity was in Christ and what Christ did for me on the Cross. My identity wasn't something I could do or something I could be, but was what Christ did for me. I quite literally delighted in this fact and then a funny happened: God told me to play baseball. He told me to go to a tryout in Houston and see what happens. I show up without having seen a pitch in over a year and I go 3 for 5 with 2 home runs and there is no possibly way I did that on my own. I finally got to a point where I was delighted in God and then He gave me what I had always wanted. The difference is that there's a totally different purpose.

I think I have a pretty good handle on what my life is all about. I recently told my cousin that every person needs to have at least one thing or idea that they would die for. In turn, he asked me what I would die for. I asked God what is it that He would want me to die for. This is what we came up with. It is my job in life to let every person I possibly can know that there is someone who will always be there for them no matter what; that there is always hope no matter what they're going through; that they are worth more than all the treasure in the world; that they are a fearfully and wonderfully perfect creation of God; that they always have been and always will be loved by God; and that there is nothing God wants more than to give them the most perfect gift of salvation and in doing so spend the rest of eternity doing nothing but showering them with the love that He gives to His children.

That's a lofty goal. Some might even call that a silly dream, but I know better. You see, God has always been a dreamer. He wants us to be so much more than we are and as I go about my life all I want to do is try to be the kind of person that my God dreams that I could be. He has amazing plans for me, I can feel it and I can hardly wait to see those plans materialize. Even better though, He has amazing dreams for me and that has given me a brand new license to dream and so my mind is filled with these outlandish ideas of preaching to millions and seeing millions come to know Christ as their personal savior...and I dare you to tell me it's impossible because my God has this awesome habit of proving doubters and naysayers wrong. Believe me when I say that anything could happen and I want to be there when anything does happen.

And so I am here playing minor league baseball in Macon, Georgia. It's definitely not where I dreamed of playing and it certainly isn't glamorous, but I'm doing something I love and besides, I let the dream of baseball die...now I'm just living out God's dream for me. Every morning I wake up and I experience love like I never knew existed and all I want to do is let everyone else on the planet feel that same love. That's my dream and that's my passion; baseball is just something else God is letting me do and He's using it to serve His purpose. At the very least, it gives me a platform from which to speak.

So here I am just living the dream. I have no idea where it's going to take me or where I'm going to end up. I just know that no matter what happens, God will do things that are beyond my wildest dreams.