I have played sports my whole life. I started with football as a child and continued with baseball, basketball and soccer through High School. Baseball has always been my worst sport. (Basketball is pretty bad too) I only played in High School because I went to a small school and if you had a pulse you would get a uniform. My junior year we played a team that was ranked #1 in the state. Each of them were amazing athletes. Some went on to play in the major leagues. I have always been able to throw hard, but by no means am I a pitcher. Our coach knowing we were going to lose did not want to waste our pitchers for the next games so I was moved from my normal position (right field) to starting pitcher. I was always cocky as a kid and saw it as an opportunity to show off my heat!! I would love to tell you that I took the mound that day and led our team in a upset victory over the #1 team but then I would be telling you something extremely far from the truth. My first 12 pitches were balls and with the bases loaded my first pitch remotely close to the plate was hammered over 400 feet away and so began the biggest lopsided lose in our schools history. We lost 41-1 in just 3 innings. I was terrible! I actually walked half the batters and even hit some with my pitches. I will never forget what it felt like to have the game in my hands and each pitch dictated how we as a team did. Everyone around me was relying on me to throw strikes and I just couldn't. Well I guess the story has a good ending though. A few weeks later the #1 team in the state was forced to forfeit all their games due to using multiple ineligible players and our team was given a win by default. So as a starting pitcher is high school I was 1-0. Perfect!
I was reminded of the feeling I felt on the mound years ago this morning as I read Hebrews 11. After the writer discusses the great men and women of the faith he comments that what they lived and died for has been passed on to us. That their mission in life is still alive today and that the faith is now in our hands. Many days, with the faith in my hands I can't seem to throw a strike. I mean I have some days where I miss the plate completely and throw it over the backstop and then later short hop it to the plate. I feel the weight on my heart and I sink my head in failure. I guess I need to remember that though I am not an ace God has called me to the mound and He is reminding me that though I might throw some terrible pitches that at the end we win anyway.
Still perfect I guess.........
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