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.