When I was a little leaguer there was one thing I really, really disliked. Unfortunately for me that one thing was about half the reason you play baseball! Hitting was my nemesis and anxiety creator.
Crazily enough I wasn’t a bad baseball player and somehow made the all-star teams as I went through my childhood. Defensively I was like a brick wall behind the plate when I was catching and if I was in the outfield I would run down any flyball. I had a great arm too.
But batting was…The. Worst. I really disliked it. It made me nervous. I hated having to decide whether or not to swing with each pitch. And I really disliked the walk of shame back to the dugout after striking out.
Looking back on it I think my strategy back in the day was to pray for the pitcher to not be very good and throw 4 balls and give me a walk. I was more interested in someone’s else's failure than my own success! I would reluctantly enter the batters’ box as a member of my team but be hesitant to actually take that vulnerability of taking a swing.
Later on our boys each did one season of little league. That scene wasn’t for them but we did a lot of batting practice on our own in order to participate well. I was optimistic that they would be better batters!
We would take a bucket of baseballs to a field and I would stand on the mound. I’d lob a few pitches towards the plate and they would swing. Soon, the tosses turned into pitches. And then the pitches turned into whatever extra oomph I could muster. The more I pitched the more they swung. They literally swung at every pitch because it was an opportunity. If the pitch was a bit inside they would step back and swing. A pitch into the dirt? It’s like golf…take a cut at it! Over your head? You can reach that and hit it! They were eager to hit no matter where the ball was pitched.
As a parent watching their games I was a wee bit nervous. But both boys were fearless with a 0-1 count or 0-2 count. They were there to swing the bat and both had some hits. And some strikeouts as well. But when they entered the batters’ box they were there to swing the bat.
Swinging the bat is necessary but it’s oh so hard when you think you’ve failed or not so good. It’s vulnerable. And once you commit to the swing you just have to go with it. It’s why I pivoted into wanting someone else (the pitcher) to not be so good himself!
Sometimes it’s hard to swing a bat. I’m not talking in baseball terms here. It’s hard to take a swing in life! When disappointments are a plenty, delayed promises seem like never, and the opposition is throwing 100-mph fastballs, it’s easier to just keep the bat on your shoulder and hope and pray for 4 bad pitches to come so you can take the next step without having to swing.
Life has seasons and possibilities. Sometimes life has times of making “outs” just like in baseball. Sometimes we get on base with a nice hit. But one thing is for sure, if we never swing we’ll never have an opportunity to get around the bases. Does it mean we will strike out? Maybe. Will we ground out or hit an easy flyball? We probably will at some point.
I’d rather swing than be a statue.
The Bible is full of those that took a swing. From little swings to big swings nearly every story is about someone that stood in the batters’ box and decided to pull the bat off the shoulder and stick it out there. I think of Esther. Noah. Elijah. Moses. Peter. John the Baptist. The Bible is full of those that sought God by swinging the bat. I love the big swings but take a look at scripture and those that just took the bat off their shoulders and put it out there just to see what God could do with them.
I’m gonna pull out the last few verses of Habbakuk as an example of someone that took a swing, just with his attitude and recognition of God’s sovereignty even when things are tough.
“Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights.”
We can do that too. Even when the outcome isn’t what we hoped for, an active participation of trusting and following God means we are in the game. It’s good for us and good for those around us.
A few months ago I had the opportunity to teach math at a remedial school. There’s a lot in that sentence…so much so that you can tell it would be a stretch for me. I committed to it and began an adventure trying to teach real-world math to girls in 6th through 12th grade.
To say it was hard is a massive understatement. It would be easier for me to run 100 miles. Daily. For a year. But I worked it and showed up every day. I swung the bat. I received a lot of attitude but there were a few glimpses of meaningful conversation and even learning! And as much as I tried to make contact with my swings you know what happened?
It all unraveled. It unraveled in a way that there was only one answer but that’s not what I was swinging for. But just like that it was apparent that my place was no longer there. It sure seemed like a strikeout even though I took a swing at something. As hard as I tried it wasn’t going to work.
A week later I decided that I would ride my bike to Washington D.C. That was something I wanted to do for quite some time but never would have done if I still had that teaching position. I was too swamped and busy to even think about pedaling that far. So I took a swing and pedaled a good chunk of the day and made it to D.C. and to the Vietnam War Memorial. Jan was supportive because she thought pedaling for 8 hours would be good for me and it was! It’s good to move and think.
Two days after that jaunt I went to vote. I arrived at 6:50, which was about the time I would typically head to go teach had I still been employed there. I walked up and was 6th in line. Others filled in behind me and we all stood, quietly, waiting to do our civic duty.
Just ahead of me was an older man with a Vietnam War Veteran hat. “Well, will you look at thatI” I thought to myself. Our line was lengthening but silent. I broke the silence and told him thanks. It was a little swing. Then the guy next to me did the same. And then the Veteran told me of how hard things had been since he returned home in…1968. Here we were, almost 60 years later and the swing he took still resonated in his soul. We listened and our voting line turned into a bit of a circle.
My interest in him sparked a question. “Did I serve?”. And that answer was “no”. But I certainly have had an interest in those that have! And as part of that interest I proceeded to tell him that just two days prior I rode my bike from my house to the Vietnam Memorial. He had more questions after learning that and our conversation wavered between the comfort of bike seats and the side-effects of Agent Orange. Not that there is any similarity between the two; it just goes to show you how much the conversation evolved!
And just like that, 10 minutes passed and we were allowed to head inside and vote. The couple next to me turned to each other and said “We are SO GLAD we came to vote today!”. We hadn’t even voted yet and they were happy to be there. Isn’t that something?
Take a swing. My little league self relied far too much on resting that bat on my shoulder and hoping for an outcome. Taking a swing can look like a lot of things; playing baseball, taking a teaching job, enlisting in the Army, or going to vote when it’s inconvenient. I'm sure you have your own things in life where you can take a swing. Just remember that no matter what the outcome is your swing can look like Habbakuk’s:
“…yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.”
