Time for a Confession

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“Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other that you may be healed. The earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and produces wonderful results.” James 5:16

I love to play ball. Softball or baseball, it doesn’t matter. I just love to play ball; and I was pretty good in my younger days, if I say so myself. So it stands to reason that one of the highlights of our family get-togethers is to play a rousing game of backyard baseball. All ages and statures play and we generally have a great time.

Last May, we had what I called a “Memorial Weekend” cookout, which my husband dubbed as my 61st birthday party. OK, I like cake so I’ll take that. šŸ™‚ After the burgers were grilled and before we cut the cake, Brent and Jim started calling their teams for the ball game. I was on Brent’s team. Yayyy!

Cameron was fielding for us and doing a pretty good job of grabbing those balls as they were hit to the left field. Brent was pitching and I took third base. Grandpa even joined the game for Jim’s team.

It was about the umpteenth inning, we all know what that is; it’s when you really don’t care what the score or the time limit is, just have fun. I was up to bat and the score was tied…I just threw that part in. I took my position at home plate, settled back on my right leg and stared Jim down at the pitcher’s mound. I was ready. Jim looked around to make sure that his team was in place, wound up and threw the ball. I swung and “crack”! The ball sailed past first base to the outfield! Fair ball! I dropped the bat and started running, as I neared the base I felt the first baseman racing me with the ball so I dove hands first into the base. Safe! The crowd roared! Well, OK, maybe roared is a little strong. But I heard calls of “Way to go Mom!” And, “What the heck???” I had fulfilled one of my bucket list items and dove into a base for the very first time. As I climbed the steps to our deck after the party, I got a high-five from my hubby and a “Wow, Mom!” from my son. I felt good.

Now for the confession.

Although this is what it looked like to family and friends, it’s not exactly the way it happened.

I walked to home plate and picked up the bat. I took my position and stood waiting patiently for the pitch. Here it comes and “Swing!” The ball and bat connected and as I momentarily blacked out, I felt the embarrassment of age if I didn’t hang in there and run to first base. My head was swimming from my equilibrium drop and my feet felt like they were in quicksand as I made them move one in front of the other. I can do this, I yelled in my head. I can do….blam. A lightning bolt hit my head and the world spun out of control. I woke mili-seconds later face down with my hands touching the base and my family and friends in awe. Now, how could I give them the true explanation??? Could you? I slowly stood up, inconspicuously checking to make sure nothing was broken, and waited for the next pitch. I made it to home only by the grace of God and a German-Irish will power. As I climbed the stairs to our deck, every inch of my body crying out for the Jacuzzi, my hubby gave me a high-five and my sons said, “Way to go, Mom.” And I said to myself, if you only knew.

Well, we have a cookout coming up this weekend, and I’ve given it some serious thought. I may be more useful running the Karaoke this time, just to be safe.

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