I spent a lot of my day reminiscing. I had left my apartment in my old softball jersey and as I drove over roads
that are slowly becoming more familiar to me, I began to think back on the
previous summer. Let me say,
for the record, that I am not athletic. In fact, I was the odd player who could
throw, but instead, did pirouettes in the outfield. Even so, it was one of my
favorite things about last season. On a warm evening in July, our team
was not doing so well. We were losing, as we did most weeks, despite our best
effort. (The dancing was probably not helpful on my part, I’ll confess). I
should explain that this is not an underdog, comeback in the last 2 minutes
kind of story, but rather a story about moments.
So back to the evening: We were approaching the final
innings and it didn’t look as though we’d be coming back from our lower score.
I could see the frustration in some of my teammates; I could see the apathy in
others. And I could see the blend of both in my own attitude. Our loyal fan
club had shown up every week in hopes that something incredible would happen on
that field. (Or that they’d be entertained in some way). Side note: I truly
believe we delivered one way or another every week. One time, I threw a bat
without meaning to and almost took out the other team’s catcher. I earned the nickname of "Dexter" on that one. Another time, one of our players screamed in victory as he ran
toward first base only to be asked to sit on the bench for being a
distraction. Good times…
But I digress from what happened on this particular night. A
batter for the other team swung and sent the softball soaring into the
outfield. I’ll be honest. I just stood up straight, placed my hands on my hips, and
thought, “Well, there’s the game.” It was then that I looked out at my good
friend, Christine, with her arm in the air. We all held our breath and watched
as the softball landed right in the palm of her hand…well, glove! She had a
look of shock, excitement, and absolute joy on her face as she showed us her
victorious catch. It was the last out and though it was our turn at bat, all of us were running away from the dugout
and toward our MVP instead. She was picked up and spun around as we laughed
and shouted, “Did you see that?!” Our
whole team cheered and chanted as though we had just been informed that we'd taken first place in the league.
Now that I’ve given you the exposition of the event, let me
get to the point of this entry. In that moment, no one noticed that we had the
least amount of runs that night. No one cared that we were going to lose. When
we would eventually make it to the bar after the game, we wouldn’t be drowning
in our defeat, but toasting to an amazing catch! I’m definitely an advocate for
looking at the big picture when it comes to wandering through this life. But it’s
times like these that I remember that it is just as important to focus on and
find joy in the small moments and to let that joy overtake any hurt,
frustration, and anger. Because what mattered most that night was not the
score, but the love for a friend in a moment of triumph. I am thankful for nights and moments such as these. I look forward to many more :)
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