Maybe for fun.
More likely to get there, somewhere, anywhere.
It’s that season.
(No, not Christmas. I’m not confused.)
Parties for everything.
5K races messing up traffic, messing with church attendance.
Funerals, too, always.
Under the Lights.
“Who am I? What am I doing eating sunflower seeds on the bleachers when I have to be at church for Children’s Sabbath at 7 am?”
“That ump owes us one.”
(The other parents are the worst. Not me, Lord, I swear on my son’s bat bag.)
But that kid playing shortstop on the other team? He’s in the 4th grade Sunday School class. I saw him this morning when I set up a video for tomorrow. (One more thing on my list today, Lord.)
“I believe in God, who made everything.”
Me, too. In the middle of all that is out of my control, I believe. I put it all in your hands, the twenty kids reading tomorrow, my boy’s next at bat, the ones who win trophies and the ones who don’t, the Seniors headed to college and real life. I believe you’ve got this, Lord. All of it.
And me, too.
Thank you for that.