Grace in Baseball

I watched my grandson pitch in a game for the first time last night. It’s a strange thing to coach a kid to do things like this. I can remember when I was coaching his dad so many years ago, and all those memories washed over me as I saw my grandson warming up on the mound. His dad had worked tirelessly with him in the backyard. His uncle had been a fine player just a few years earlier, and he had brought additional expertise and encouragement over the last few weeks.

So, my grandson stepped up on the mound and went through the warmup routine. To the casual observer, he would have looked alone. Yes, he was the only person on the mound. No one was gripping his body, changing his stance, or making the motions for him. You could assume that he was on his own.

But that wouldn’t be accurate. He was far from alone.

The crowd noises weren’t really the issue. The tension of the “first time” wasn’t the primary drive. They were just background noise. Several times, however, I saw his behavior change because he heard a voice that cut through the din of all the others. It was noticeable. His father’s voice was what my grandson’s ear was tuned to hear. And when his dad said, “Slow down and take your time,” he slowed down. “Big breath,” his dad would call when he got in a hurry, and I would see the shoulders rise noticeably and fall, cheeks puffed with the air he blew out on cue.

One of the opinions on God’s involvement is called the “clock” theory, and it goes like this: “God created the world like a watchmaker winds a clock. He winds it and leaves it alone, ticking on its own.” These theorists argue that God is NOT involved, is UNattached, UNinterested, UNinvested. While He’s not visible, His VOICE is unmistakable. And just as my grandson was altering his behavior because of the TRUST he had in his dad’s voice, we journey along in this life as our peers and strangers are blind and deaf to God’s work and involvement in us. But we who walk with Him know His voice. We read scripture, and we “hear” it. We pray, and we sense it. We feel compelled by that gnawing presence that makes sin uncomfortable, good choices fulfilling, and worries compressed by peace.

On that mound in the middle of the diamond, my grandson received the grace of an engaged but not domineering dad. His voice encouraged him, calmed him, and sustained him. (And he brought the heat!) I smiled as I saw grace, even in baseball!