Faith In Fiction | On Team Grace
Being an avid baseball fan, one of my bucket list items, silly as it may sound, was to attend an opening day game. As parents to two toddlers, my husband and I rarely had a chance to attend a ballgame, much less the season opener. As long as I can remember, baseball has been one of my earthly delights, an invitation from God to know and delight in Him. For me, it is one of the good and perfect gifts coming down from the Father, intended to lead me back to Him, in whose presence is fullness of joy and at whose right hand are pleasures forevermore,
“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” James 1:17
To my astonishment, for my 35th birthday, my husband gifted me with right field tickets for the Padres’ season opener. Gazing at those tickets was a dream come true. For weeks I looked forward to the event of my lifetime, the opening day excitement, the smack of Tony Gwynn’s bat, the cheers of the home crowd and the announcer’s famous rousing shouts of “You can hang a star on that baby” for incredible defensive plays. What an awesome evening it would be! Until it wasn’t, that is.
As we took our seats in the field level, the sun glared directly on us as if we were its targeted victims.The two rows in front of us were occupied by members of the ‘safety patrol,’ elementary school students trained as crossing guards for their schools. Throughout the first few innings, two of the kidlets cried continuously about the scorching heat, pleading to go home. By the third inning, several of the boys in the group were deftly hiding a nerf gun, unveiling it for target practice at innocent bystanders whenever the crowd was on its feet. Although the usher tried to catch the offenders, he was never able to identify the source of the flying arrows.
Judging by their uniforms, the section behind us was reserved for military personnel. The friendly rivalry between sailors and marines, seated near each other, grew louder and more heated as the game went on. At opportune moments, my husband, a former sailor, would yell ‘Hooyah,’ laughing uncontrollably when it triggered the inevitable rippling roars of ‘Oorah’ and ‘Hooyah’ directly behind us. It was fun for him, but distracting and annoying to me. After the seventh inning stretch, the Marine Hymn started playing over the loudspeaker. By the third note of the song, the marines behind us were on their feet, and as they snapped to attention, their drinks and food dropped immediately from their hands and laps, some of it landing directly, you guessed it, on my head.
Between irksome distractions, I watched home team players strike out one after another. Even the best players were unable to get that hoped-for hit to bring their teammates home. The final score was too embarrassing to even think about.
The event was far from what I expected it to be. But in reflection, I learned lifetime lessons that evening. In baseball teams, in school groups, in the military and in church, we don’t play by ourselves but are always surrounded by our team. God has told us,
“I will never leave you nor forsake you.” Hebrews 13:5b
When life goes wrong from our perspective with curve balls thrown at us (or drinks unexpectedly dropped on our heads), we have a miracle hitter who promises to bring us safely home. The risen Lord is with us, around us and for us. We are part of Team Grace, honored to be on a dream team beyond the wildest imagination. Our past has been pardoned by grace and our future is secure.
So while my bucket list achievement was a bit disappointing, I left the game triumphant in the hope that I have of sharing in God’s glory,
“Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God.” Romans 5:2
