Playing Catch

Today my son and I played catch. It is not out of the norm for us to play catch, or some big accomplishment.  And it wasn't because we were enjoying the beautiful spring-like day in December, which we ultimately did anyway. Today my son and I played catch for a bigger reason.  A few years ago on this day my dad suddenly and unexpectedly passed away.  And as anyone who has lost a parent knows, losing someone that close to you does not allow for your life to  ease back to normal quickly. It is a pain and loss that is hard to describe with words.  But in the midst of that loss, I often find myself longing for a connection with my dad.  So today I asked my 8 year old son if I could play catch with him.  Now, I admit I am one of those baseball purist who like to romanticize about how baseball is a metaphor for life (yes I tear up every time I watch the final scene of Field of Dreams, and yes today's throwing time was somewhat inspired by that scene), but I could not have found a better way of honoring my dad on this day than going out and playing catch with my boy.

There is just something about being able to step out and toss the ball, and have the ball return back to you every time that goes beyond time, it goes beyond the throws. The power is in the moment, but it far exceeds any particular moment.  I had this profound sense that I was playing catch with my son today, but I was also playing catch with my dad again, as we have so many times throughout my life. And even more, it's as if my son was able to take part in a game of catch with his PawPaw, which he never really had a chance to do.  I still hold tight to a lot of wonderful memories of my dad, and a great multitude of those memories involve that leather ball we were throwing around today.  Baseball was not such a big part of our relationship because that was the only time I could spend time with my dad, in fact it was just the opposite.  You probably wouldn't have described dad as a baseball man before he had kids.  But because his kids loved baseball, he became a baseball man.  Dad poured himself into the desires of his kids because he wanted nothing more than for us to get a taste of our dreams. Nothing was impossible for us boys in the eyes of my dad. (Although side note here, my mom was actually the one who taught me how to pitch.  That's another post for another day, but just wanted to give credit where it was due) 

During this Christmas season, as we celebrate the baby being born, it is a reminder for us to look for God in the midst of everyday life, especially in the times of loss and darkness.  God took on flesh to show us that we can experience Him right here, right now in these everyday moments we call life.  Today, throwing that ball with my boy, I got to experience a little bit of heaven.  I got to connect with my son...and my dad.  I got to see heaven and earth mingle.  We were just playing catch, but it was so much more.