Bleeding again
It's been 13 years since I last played a professional baseball game. 13 years. In all of that time, I've swung a bat once more than twice. (Somehow 3 times just didn't fit with "all of that time.")
The day I retired I gave away all of my gear and memorabilia. Spikes from Ken Caminiti. Bats from Tony Gwynn. My favorite gloves from Wilson, who sponsored all of my equipment... I went home with two bats (I still have one of Tony Gwynn's bats) and a big question mark for what the rest of my life would become.
Last night I used one of those bats at the batting cage as I sought some much-needed wisdom from above, and it felt so good to do it again.
It was great to smell the smoke from the bat after tipping a fastball. It was great to get a blister on my hand and bleed again. And it was great to see the ball jump off of the bat as it once did. Unfortunately, I am now down to one bat...I got a bit too aggressive and hit a ball off the end of the bat, which, as you all may know, causes a fairly large splintering effect if you're using wood. Oh well. I still have the bat from Tony.
Why, after 13 years, did I go to the batting cage? I needed some one-on-one time with God. I needed to draw close to him again, and for some reason, he put it on my heart to go back in time and meet him at Boomers. Pounding Plumb's I Can't Do This (by myself) and Cut, and Skillet's Rebirthing into my soul, I swung at 120 straight pitches, pouring every ounce of strength and effort into each swing. And when I was done, I felt different. I felt relieved.
10 minutes later I headed to Sunset Cliffs to continue this escapade with God.
With headphones still on, I walked along the cliffs until I found a spot above the crashing waves to sit and watch the horizon. Although people meandered around me, I found a moment when I was completely alone...a moment when I could just listen, not to the music, but to the voice in my heart. And the tears started to fall.
In his way...the way he always reaches me...God wanted to tell me to put my trust in him again. He loosened me up with 120 swings, taking me back to the days of my dreams. Then, there at the cliffs, as I looked toward the horizon, he tugged on my heart to venture out onto the water once more.
I don't know what the plan is. In fact, I've never been more unsure about my life than now. But somehow a little bit of blood and the power of the ocean revived me, and I feel rejuvenated because I know, at least, that there is a plan.
So even if the pace has slowed of late, I am...
Marching on. JG
The day I retired I gave away all of my gear and memorabilia. Spikes from Ken Caminiti. Bats from Tony Gwynn. My favorite gloves from Wilson, who sponsored all of my equipment... I went home with two bats (I still have one of Tony Gwynn's bats) and a big question mark for what the rest of my life would become.
Last night I used one of those bats at the batting cage as I sought some much-needed wisdom from above, and it felt so good to do it again.
It was great to smell the smoke from the bat after tipping a fastball. It was great to get a blister on my hand and bleed again. And it was great to see the ball jump off of the bat as it once did. Unfortunately, I am now down to one bat...I got a bit too aggressive and hit a ball off the end of the bat, which, as you all may know, causes a fairly large splintering effect if you're using wood. Oh well. I still have the bat from Tony.
Why, after 13 years, did I go to the batting cage? I needed some one-on-one time with God. I needed to draw close to him again, and for some reason, he put it on my heart to go back in time and meet him at Boomers. Pounding Plumb's I Can't Do This (by myself) and Cut, and Skillet's Rebirthing into my soul, I swung at 120 straight pitches, pouring every ounce of strength and effort into each swing. And when I was done, I felt different. I felt relieved.
10 minutes later I headed to Sunset Cliffs to continue this escapade with God.
With headphones still on, I walked along the cliffs until I found a spot above the crashing waves to sit and watch the horizon. Although people meandered around me, I found a moment when I was completely alone...a moment when I could just listen, not to the music, but to the voice in my heart. And the tears started to fall.
In his way...the way he always reaches me...God wanted to tell me to put my trust in him again. He loosened me up with 120 swings, taking me back to the days of my dreams. Then, there at the cliffs, as I looked toward the horizon, he tugged on my heart to venture out onto the water once more.
I don't know what the plan is. In fact, I've never been more unsure about my life than now. But somehow a little bit of blood and the power of the ocean revived me, and I feel rejuvenated because I know, at least, that there is a plan.
So even if the pace has slowed of late, I am...
Marching on. JG
posted by Jon Graves at 10:33 PM
2 Comments:
your testimony inspires me. God is doing a good work in you and I see his love all around you. keep keep running..we all are running with you!
Cool. Thanks for sharing.
It makes us all think about when we seem to be doing okay on our own and let go a bit. Because as we are his, God is always listening to our hearts, continues to be with us, and waits for us to be still so He can speak to us in his own tender way. Sometimes it is at a special place so we can listen to him and feel his presence.
Stayed tuned in to him. He will surely unveil his plan for you because he knows the desires of your heart.
May God continue to bless you.
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