A lot can be said for growing up in a neighborhood of boys. From palling up with one or two guys who become your best friends, to just hanging with the guys, many great times are had. Times outside, generally playing in the street, for my generation didn't have the burden of computers yet. You actually went outside and played-and were physical. And come to think of it, I don't remember very many fat kids, so we had no need of a presidential committee to study obesity in youths. We were kids, and we liked to play-from sunup to dinner time, then out again afterwards, until it was time to come in-when it got dark in the winter, and as late as 10 o'clock in the summer. Except on special nights when we slept out-not over, but out, on a patio or in a tent.
And the simplest yet most fun toy invented is the ball. Alone or in groups, you can play numerous games. Alone all it takes is a wall to throw it off of. And summertime meant baseball, and if you were good enough playing Little League. But even more fun, were the games you played on the streets, and the rules you made-ground rules the big leagues called them, courtesies to neighbors cars and yards to keep you out of trouble were a better description, each different for the times you played in front of each kids house. So many of our games were played in front of Scottie Aldinger's house, where a manhole cover was home plate, and the sewer drains were first and third bases. And at the circle by Chris Farley's, where any ball kicked onto the grass past the curb was an automatic homerun. Serious business at age 10.
Now asphalt can be hard on a leather covered hardball. So every once in a while someone would show up with a rubber covered hardball-but somehow it wasn't the same. With the real hardball, it would get scuffed, and then the cover start to tear, and you wanted to be the one hitting when the cover came off. Then the yarn would unwind, everywhere, until you were left with a hard rubber ball in the center, which was rumored to contain acid that would blind you if opened-so we never did. Golf ball centers were also rumored to have the same center, and once we even cut into one, with rubber bands exploding in our hands, we finally got to the center-but gave up-leaving an urban legend intact, at least in our neighborhood. We would occasionally get brave, and give one to a dog, watching him trying to bite it while the rubber bands snapped at his face, but would never let him bite into the rubber center.
Today kids have organized sports, with rules and adults, and not quite the fun. But I see many kids and adults whose lives are unraveling like the old baseballs we used to play with. But not realizing it until it is too late. Never realizing what is at the core, and just going onto another ball. And we still like to watch dogs fight/bite at the rubber bands while chewing a golf ball, but don't understand when our live becomes like one. For at the center of each is our heart, and without God we find a hard center, that we are afraid to open up-might be poison inside. So as our life unravels, we go with it, keeping it all inside until it is too late-game over.
Or we become like the rubber covered ball, thick skinned, and not the just same as the real thing. Our lives become a substitute for what they could be in Christ. And soon we find without baseballs to play with-our game is over, rained out.
Only in Christ does he offer you extra innings, a chance to give it all up to Him, and to let our inner core soften. And as I watch people's lives unravel in front of me, they are looking for something as a solution, when it is really a someone they need-Jesus Christ. Take time today to examine your old glove, I.e. your life, and the balls that come with it. Before they fray, or rip, or begin to unravel, let God into your life. Give Him your problems, and watch as you get to play more, and enjoy it more. Use the proper equipment, and watch as you can go into extra innings without getting tired-God says they shall walk and not get weary, run and not faint. Stay the kid in God's eye, let Him be your Father, and watch as your life changes.
Come to Christ as a child, He advises. Someday we will all become adults, but we don't have to grow up. It just takes a little faith, like believing what is inside that hard rubber inner ball. If anyone knows don't tell me, there are some things you just have to experience yourself.
Trust Jesus. He is a baseball fan. Even the Bible, in Genesis One starts, "in the big inning..."
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogpsot.com