Here's Pastor Dave McDowell's weekly devotional that he sends out to members of his church. Dave is my brother and serves as the Music Minister at Stewartstown UMC in PA.
Let's call this my back to school "What I did this summer" essay
I watched baseball.
That's right, baseball. Lots of it.
The game that has no clock and therefore can go on forever.
I'm not sure what draws me to baseball,
perhaps because its essence
is everything that my life is usually not........
slow, oblivious to time, filled with lots of down time
Not only did I watch a lot of baseball on TV,
I went to several games.
Here's what happened at one game....
It was 94 degrees.
That would be 94 degrees while sitting on metal bleachers.
The game was sold out.
One really gets to know one's neighbors when in that close approximation.
Personal space goes out the window
along with personal comfort.
The gentleman five seats down in seat 29
makes his first of many trips to the rest room.
It takes 10 minutes and the contortions of everyone in row 24
to get this man to where he needs to be.
There is a reason baseball is such a slow moving game......
it helps to sell the beer and the nachos.
Early in the game nothing is happening,
no runs, no hits, no action.
Only in baseball do they try to rev up the crowd
by having the organist play
"If you're happy and you know it clap your hands"
What else would I be but happy when my body is confined
to 20 inches of space in 94 degree heat and I am pretty sure
that I am sharing the sweat of my next door neighbors??
By the third inning,
I head to the concessions not because I am particularly hungry,
but because I need to find any waft of fresh oxygen.
Fortunately I have missed the bathroom gentleman
on his way back to seat number 29.
I come back with a large soda and nachos.
This cost me the equivalent of half of my monthly mortgage payment
and I am pretty sure my doctor would be shaking his head at the cholesterol count...
if only he knew.
Lucky me, just as I am wedged back into bleacher row 24, seat 24,
the wave is making its way around the stadium.
I lose 4 nachos in the attempt to surf with everyone.
Somewhere, my doctor is probably smiling.
Meanwhile 40 minutes have passed since the national anthem,
and nothing of any importance has happened on the field.
The organist,
sensing a larger than usual lull in the game, decides to play
that well known Jewish folk song, Hava Nagila.
Everyone is up and clapping in rhythm
as we celebrate life and merriment.
I think there was a circumcision performed two rows back.
Meanwhile, I am just glad that I have not spilled my soda.
The home team gets a runner to third base
but all that excitement evaporates as he is stranded there.
What is there left to do but play the
"Which hat is the ball under" game.
I am usually pretty good at this game
but as I am focused on the jumbo-tron screen,
the gentleman with the small bladder in seat 29
is passing through on his 2nd trip to the restroom
He wedges by just as the moving hats speed up.
I guess that the ball is under the middle hat.
Wrong....... right hat.
People to my right and left are high fiving their correct choice.
This, my friends, is baseball fever.
The organist sensing the increased energy arising in the crowd,
begins to play the bull fighting, toreador chant.
The crowd rhythmically claps.
If only I had brought my castanets!!
The ballpark is buzzing.
The visiting team scores two runs.
End of buzz.
Somehow 94 degrees feels like 96 degrees when you are losing.
Wave number two comes around the stadium.
You might think this indicates great crowd energy.
It does not.
It indicates great crowd boredom.
The announcer says,
"Everybody clap your hands!"
As the drum machine pounds out eighth notes,
everyone begins to clap in rhythm.
This is fun for about three seconds,
twelve seconds shorter then when we did this in nursery school many years ago.
It was obviously too much for the person who spilled his beer
while trying to clap in the section above me.
I don't recall beer spills in nursery school.......
The home team scores a run
but still trails.
Only one thing can bring the crowd back....
the condiment race
Three poor souls dressed as mustard, ketchup, and relish
race around the playing field.
Mustard wins, relish finishes a close second,
and ketchup suffers a heat stroke in the outfield.
The game is roaring to a glorious finish,
one more trip to the restroom by small bladder guy,
crowd wave number three,
and the seventh inning stretch
where I proclaim "Thank God I'm A Country Boy"
(I am not)
The home team gets a runner to third base in the bottom of the ninth.
Two pitching changes by the visitors,
(which takes about 20 minutes)
is a wasted effort as the home team ties the game,
sending the game into extra innings.
Sometimes in life,
things just look better farther away.
The closer you get to things,
the more you see the imperfections, the shortcomings, the blemishes.
That is true in churches, in marriages.......
and in any relationship.
The disciples in the time they spent with Jesus,
found out each one's tendencies.
The early church leaders
learned who would be the faithful and who would be the fall away crowd
Those of us who participate in faith communities
learn that we all have a long way to go before perfection.
We are told in the first letter to the Thessalonians
to "be patient with all people."
Patience is the ingredient that
gives us longevity to stay in relationships,
allowing others, and ourselves to grow to maturity.
Yes, it is more comfortable to watch the game on TV.
But one doesn't get the ultimate feel of being AT the game unless one goes,
and that includes the comfortable and the uncomfortable moments.
Someday, the guy in the upper deck is going to learn to clap without spilling his beverage.
Someday, the gametime temperature will be 75 degrees and pleasant.
Someday, the baserunner is going to find a way to make it the final ninety feet.
So before you give up on a relationship, a community, or a cause,
remember that a bit of patience will help you get to a better place.
And all the challenges along the way,
will make the last inning all the sweeter.
The home team eventually won in 13 innings.
By then, many had left and I had room to stretch out.
The temperature dropped into the 80's and a cool late evening breeze arrived.
Patience
It is in time, rewarded.
"Be patient therefore, brothers and sisters until the coming of the Lord.
Behold the farmer waits for the precious produce of the soil,
being patient about it, until it gets the early and the late rains.
You too, bee patient, strengthen your hearts,
for the coming of the Lord, is at hand."
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