Micah and Bethany recently got Samuel a Cocomelon sticker to put on his wall. He was absolutely thrilled with it. He started yelling, “Bus! Bus!” because he associates Cocomelon (or as he likes to say, “Coco”) with the video the two of us most often watch together: “The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round.” After that, we usually watch, “Old McDonald Had a Farm,” followed by “The Bath Song.” Then we try to do something less passive and more cognitive, like reading books or playing in the yard.
Speaking of the yard, the flower beds are now mulched, and the Mother’s Day flowers are now planted. This year we’re trying geraniums (red and white) in the back row, and marigolds (burnt yellow) in the front row. For the ten hanging baskets, we’re going to give impatiens (multi-colored) a try. We’re also trying impatiens (purple and lavender) for my mother-in-law’s flower patch. We also planted tomatoes and peppers in the garden. Lots more to come, but it’s a good start to the new season. Such a joyful time to be alive. 💙 💙 💙
The new Cocomelon sticker.Helping Daddy Micah with the yard.Helping Daddy Micah wash his car.Did Daddy Micah help Samuel wash his car?The new vanity license plate.When you can’t even wait to get out of your pajamas.Flower beds mulched.Geraniums and marigolds planted.The blooming roses.Decorative rock wall restored (though I need to work on it more).My Japanese maple is giving it a good go.
I was out of state last week teaching a doctoral residency (along with conducting another remote learning course, a prayer meeting, a variety of staff meetings, and even some dissertating). I couldn’t wait to get back and see our little Bubby. (Yes, and everyone else, too.) In fact, I got choked up on the flight home at the thought of reconnecting with this little munchkin and getting to make a “Samuel Sandwich” again.
What a joy to return to this adorable, pleasant, and wonderful little boy. His receptor language has always been good, and now he’s starting to talk up a storm. He said “Bible” the other day, which was another reason to get choked up. He was also the ring bearer at a wedding last week. He’s only 17 months old, but he made it down the aisle (with a little help)!
He’s the best Bubby ever, and every day I get a little more smitten. Below are some random snaps and video clips, in no particular order.
Enjoy!
💙🥰💙🥰💙🥰💙🥰💙🥰💙🥰💙🥰💙🥰💙🥰💙🥰
Happy about eating out.Exploring the great outdoors.Pondering the mysteries of the universe.Too cool for school.Time for a piano lesson.Working in our flower bed.Taking a happy break.Challenge accepted.Dressed for the wedding.
Out on the dance floor.
Down the slide with “Gaga.”
Sing us a song, you’re the piano man.
Out of gas, but resting up for tomorrow.
In addition to which…
Here are a few bonus pictures that didn’t upload the first time.
Trying to eat a grilled cheese sandwich in one bite.Lots of room to roam.The label on the swing gets it right.
We took Samuel to the Twilight Acres Creamery & Bakery in Womelsdorf yesterday. It’s a charming little shop that makes for a great Friday Fun Day. The ice cream and baked goods are outstanding. We had a lovely time together, and the little guy still apparently remembers our date. (See video below.) Earlier on Friday Bethany and I went to Hobby Lobby and then had lunch at the Longhorn Steakhouse. Bubby charmed the whole restaurant. I may have gotten him a Cocomelon doll at the store because he kept saying “Co-co,” which charmed me.
It’s been an extra joyful week this week, so I just had to post one of these. (Our little Bubby stayed overnight last night, so I’m over the moon. Also, after completing all the translations and primary source analyses, I started writing chapter 1 of my dissertation!) Actually, I can’t remember the last time I did a Friday Fun post, so let’s see if I still remember how to do this. Samuel is smitten with his new Cocomelon school bus, and I’m smitten with this laugh-out-loud meme. Enjoy both! And have a great weekend.
April 13. It’s my “Gotcha Day”! I’ll be forever grateful that Carl and Cherie Valentino hand-picked me out of an orphanage in Philadelphia many years ago and made me their own son. Yes, as I’ve indicated on several occasions, my adoptive father could be extremely harsh at times, and that harshness left a few skid marks on my soul and placed landmines in my path for years to come.
But mom and dad did a beautiful thing for me, and I am blessed that I didn’t have to languish for years as a neglected ward of an impersonal state. Besides, Dad was the child of two alcoholic parents, so he carried his own share of pain in life. In the end, he came to know Jesus—praise the Lord.
Holy Week was rich and meaningful this year, as always. Our church broke attendance records all over the place, but that was minor compared to the massive blessings we shared together. Even though many “free churches” today make little room in their calendar for these kinds of special observances, the worldwide church historically has felt compelled this time of year to align their focus to the Passion Narrative in Scripture.
As such, during these special days we cleared our calendar to focus exclusively on the events of Christ’s suffering, death, and resurrection, which are at the very heart of our Christian faith. Meetings and ordinary business were not allowed. All our attention was directed toward the person and work of Jesus Christ as:
The triumphant yet humble King (Palm Sunday);
The Servant of God and Mediator of the New Covenant (Maundy Thursday)
The Lamb of God Who Takes Away the Sin of the World (Good Friday); and
Christus Victor—the Risen Savior of the Human Race (Easter Sunday).
The theological rationale for such a special week is how the Gospels themselves are laid out. In terms of sheer space allocation, the attention given to Jesus’ final week of ministry before the crucifixion, along with the 40-day period after the resurrection, occupies a significant portion of Gospel texts:
Matthew—8 of 28 chapters (29%)
Mark—6 of 16 chapters (38%)
Luke—5.5 of 24 chapters (23%)
John—8.7 of 21 chapters (41%)
All told, 28+ of the 89 chapters in the Gospel story (32%) are devoted to the period of time between the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem and his ascension back to the Father. Yet this period is less than 1% of Jesus’ entire 3.5 years of public ministry.
In terms of literary style, this space allocation suggests that while the birth, life, teachings, and miracles of Jesus were important to the authors, it was the Passion of Christ (i.e., his final acts, sayings, trials, sufferings, and death) and the Resurrection of Christ (i.e., his empty tomb, post-resurrection appearances, and ascension) that were centrally important to their purpose for writing.
Martin Kähler, a late 19th-century German New Testament scholar, stated that the Gospels are “passion narratives with extended introductions.” While perhaps somewhat overstated, this assessment does strike at the ultimate goal of Jesus’ earthly career.
As noted before, I’m way behind on posting sermon summaries, so here’s a real quick look at where we were in the Word this past Holy Week:
Palm Sunday “Don’t Miss the Donkey” (Zechariah 9:1-11) If we miss the point of Jesus’ donkey, we will miss the point of Jesus’ death.
I think I shocked some folks when I asserted that the palm branches were the chosen symbol for this day by the people who misunderstood Jesus, not Jesus himself. The symbol Jesus chose was the lowly donkey. Big difference.
Maundy Thursday “Washed by God” (John 13:1-17) and “Fed by God” (Luke 22:14-23) Our God does feet. He also does souls. We need to give him both.
The shock here is that God in Christ came all the way down to give us what we needed most—himself. He cleanses us and nourishes us with his body and blood. May we never get over the jolt of these incredible truths.
Good Friday “A Really Good Friday for Barabbas” (Matthew 27:15-26) Jesus takes our place on death row so that we might live eternally with God.
Of all the Good Friday sermons I’ve done, I had never given one on the the release of Barabbas. This year, I felt a strong urge by the Holy Spirit to do so. Fascinating aspects of the story include: (1) the manuscript evidence for Barabbas’s first name being “Jesus”; and (2) the four failed attempts by Pontius Pilate to get rid of the case against the Nazarene. I stirred in some archaeology and Greco-Roman backgrounds to go with the theology and exhortation. My three main movements were:
Barabbas and Us—Everyone lives on spiritual death row.
Pilate and Us—Everyone will eventually deal directly with Jesus.
Jesus and Us—Everyone can be released from spiritual death row by trusting in Jesus.
Interestingly enough, I had a funeral on Good Friday—something I’ve never done before. That made for a tight schedule, but it was a special request from a special family, and I was happy to help. So, Wednesday night and Friday morning I was back in my old stomping grounds of Fleetwood, PA. The family’s home is on Main Street, and the funeral home is on Kutztown Road.
I was wondering what it would feel like to be back in the area. All was well as I drove around town and went down memory lane. I even found myself praying prayers of blessing over others, whether I thought they deserved them or not. Such is the amazing grace of God. Besides, as George Herbert once said, “Living well is the best revenge.”
Some chapters in life are better than others, but when you let the Author of life author your story (and stop trying to grab the pen yourself), the ending is always maximally great. Some of my favorite writers specialize in the surprise ending—Guy de Maupassant, Jane Austen, Agatha Christie, O. Henry, Charlotte Brontë, et al. Those little “Aha!” moments in literature point to the one great “Aha!” moment that’s coming at the end of the age.
Anyway, as per usual, I sobbed my way through Jesus of Nazareth during Holy Week, and then (part of) The Passion of the Christ on Good Friday. I only got to see part of The Passion this year because I had to finish writing my sermon. I just barely made it! 😊
Easter Sunday “It Doesn’t Sting Anymore!” (1 Corinthians 15:50-57) When the risen Christ returns, he will make a brand new you.
I had a lot of fun with this one. Hopefully I’ll be able to say more later, but here’s the outline for now:
The PRESENT LIMITATION of our bodies (15:50)
Your present body cannot endure on earth.
Your present body cannot enter into heaven.
The FUTURE TRANSFORMATION of our bodies (15:51-53)
The believer’s body will be changed in a moment of time.
The believer’s body will be changed for all of eternity.
The ETERNAL CELEBRATION of our bodies (15:54-57)
The prophecies of Jesus anticipated the swallowing of death.
The pardon of Jesus eliminated the sting of death.
After the church service (which featured a special light-to-dark opening), we had a big ham dinner with the whole family. Afterward I got to play with Samuel, which was pure delight. All of us probably had too much candy, so it’s probably time once again to mortify the flesh.
On another note, the nine long appendices of my dissertation are now complete, and I am ready to start writing the chapters. Sheesh, it was a lot of work playing around in (and translating many of) the ancient Near Eastern, Greco-Roman, intertestamental, and rabbinic primary sources. But, oh, how they illuminated my topic! I very much want to share some of my work now, but I’ll resist the temptation to do that and just provide the title:
TORN VEIL IN THE TEMPLE: GOD’S COMMENTARY ON THE DEATH OF HIS SON AND EPICENTER OF HIS NEW CREATION IN CHRIST
I hope you’re intrigued. My thesis is set, and I can hardly wait to share my findings and defend my conclusions. But—all in good time. I think a massive blog post series may be in the future.
Finally—note to self: No more doctorates after this one! 😊 Like the last one, this has been a great learning experience, but it’s been awfully time consuming, and I’m ready to get on to other things. It’s been a special period that needs to wrap up within the year.
Enya has been my musical companion whenever my academic stress levels spike. Her vibe is just so soothing. Speaking of Enya, I worked one of her pieces (“A Day without Rain”) into the Maundy Thursday pre-service playlist. It worked quite well to help set a tone for the evening. I think I’ll go for a walk now and play something of hers that’s a little more exuberant. Any suggestions? Most of her stuff is quite mellow.
Since several rabbinic writings I encountered mention angels being made by God from fire, I’ll leave you with “The Forge of the Angels” from Dark Sky Island.
Snip, snip here! Snip, snip there! Watch the barber cut your hair. It’s the perfect place to stop. Sneak a peek in the barber shop!
– From a children’s book I read to Samuel.
Our little Bubby had his first haircut today. He did well—no fear, no tears. Of course, it helped that he sat on daddy’s lap the whole time. 😊 He also went to a new park today, and he enjoyed it. All the swings were new to him, as was the merry-go-round. He had to think long and hard about whether or not he liked spinning around in a circle like that.
I can hardly believe it, but Samuel turned 16 months old today. Yesterday he helped me celebrate my birthday. Actually, I got him two presents. Nothing wrong with that, right? They’re riding toys, and he had a blast breaking them in. (As noted previously, I’m the softie. Haha! I enjoyed going back and looking at that post again.)
💙 💙 💙
Samuel got me a matching picture frame for his brother’s sonogram, and I adore it. One birthday anticipating another. I can hardly wait to meet Levi.
The curls prompting the cut.Digital distractions are helpful.Looking good.The finished look!On to the new playground.Learning to drive already.Changing a flat tire.
Last year the schizophrenic weather here in Southeastern Pennsylvania knocked out my flowering cherry tree for the season. One week it was unseasonably warm—which got the buds interested in peeking out for a time—but then the following week the temperatures went back to Mr. Slurpee levels. Hence, the flowering cherry tree never got any flowers. Parts of it also seemed to die off over the summer, which was heartbreaking. So, I trimmed it back last fall in the hopes of witnessing a resurrection this spring.
Alas, this year it looks like the weather is trying to pull the same stunt. The warm temperatures hit recently, the buds came out, and then it got cold again. Shizo weather for the second year in a row. So, I covered up the tree to minimize the damage. (If the internet says to do it, it must be right, right?) Unfortunately, I did a pretty lousy job of it, so we’ll see what happens. I also covered my little Japanese maple tree. If ever I needed Linus’s blanket…
Bonus
Bubby just learned how to feed himself. Some of the food even makes it into his mouth once in a while. 😊 I wonder if he’s going to be a lefty. Have I mentioned lately how much I love this little guy? 💙❤️💛💚
Cheez-Its are now a thing at our house. How did that happen? Right as Bethany was FaceTiming us yesterday, something hilarious took place during the call. I’m still laughing about it today. Samuel walked into the kitchen, out of view, and then he reappeared on screen moments later with a box of these cheddar crackers in hand! So, today, we went out and got him his own box for here at our house. (Yes, I’m the softie in the family when it comes to our little Bubby.) And yes, I may have given him a few bites of pizza for lunch today. And a few bites of a chocolate-covered pretzel. And a few bites of other things he probably shouldn’t have had. I wonder if momma’s ever going to let him come back to my house! 🙂
Just popping in here for little bit of silliness on this special day that everybody mispronounces. 😊 Then it’s back to the dissertation grind and off to teaching a fun class during our residency week here in Myerstown, Pee-yay.
I did a quick search of the top love songs of all time, and Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” is routinely at the top of the list—or at least in the top five. So here it is for your listening pleasure. (My, oh my, what that lady could do with a syllable!)
And (just because I’m enchanted with her stuff) here’s an Enya love song, too. But best of all—speaking of love—below is a brief clip of our little Bubby. SamJam has gotten his first phone. I hope he calls me later today to wish me a Happy Valentino’s Day. 😊
His rhythm is a whole lot better than mine! 💙
P.S., Why is my second dissertation taking so long? Several reasons:
First, my literature review involves surveying 2,000 years of commentary and theological reflection. That takes a while to process, systematize, and chart.
Second, my work so far contains eight languages besides English (Greek, Hebrew, Aramaic, Syriac, Latin, Italian, French, and German), all of which I have to translate and verify for accuracy.
Third, my methodology involves a full biblical theology approach (i.e., a Genesis-to-Revelation analysis) rather than a simple exegesis of a few relevant texts. That’s a lot of ground to cover.
Fourth, my study would not be complete without a deep dive into the relevant intertestamental literature. That corpus is likewise vast and sometimes complicated.
Fifth, I am dual-employed (happily so) as a pastor and as a professor. Multiple hats on one head can be a balancing act sometimes.
Sixth, my mother-in-law lives with us, and she is in the seventh and final stage of Alzheimer’s. That can be quite challenging to handle, and it’s getting harder by the day.
Seventh, I spend as much time as I possibly can with my little SamJam. As readers of TNL already know, I’m totally smitten with him! ❤️
So, yeah, this is taking longer than I wanted, but I love my topic, and I really like how it’s turning out so far. More on that later. Probably much later. Haha! 🙂
Micah and Bethany are such good parents. Below are two clips that make my heart smile. The first is Mommy reading a “dino-snore” book to Samuel. He’s learned to yawn and snore at just the right time during the story. It cracks me up every time I watch it. The second clip makes me a little nervous, but it’s still adorable. Daddy gets a bit physical in mimicking the “Swish! Swish! Swish!” line of “The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round” song. Please don’t drop our little Bubby, Micah! 🙂 💙
Our little Bubby has been walking for well over a month now, and the words are starting to come, too—clearer and clearer each time. His first discernible word (beyond “Momma” and “Dadda”) was “hello” several weeks ago. It was adorable.
Yesterday he said, “Gampa” for the first time—not a bad attempt at “Grandpa.” Of course, I melted. The other day we thought we heard him try to say “fish.” Today he said it again, and the kids caught it on video. It sort of came out like, “shish.”
Thus it begins—a life of ambulating and annunciating. Walking and wording. Bring it on, SamJam. We’re eager to watch and listen.
Besides, Levi Timothy will need you to talk to him…and play with him!
On Mother’s Day 2021, Sonya was opening her gifts from her children. At one point she held up a gray T-shirt and started to cry. I was sitting on the other side of the room and couldn’t see what it said. I thought to myself, “I’m sure it’s a very nice T-shirt, but we don’t usually cry over T-shirts now, do we? So, what’s up with that?”
What’s up with that was the writing it featured on the front: “Best grandma ever.”
“Is this true?” she asked with a gasp.
It was. And after she turned the shirt around to where I could see it, I started to cry, too. Micah and Bethany were expecting their first child. As readers of This New Life well know, Samuel James White was born on December 1, 2021. I’ve been utterly smitten ever since.
Bethany always felt kind of bad that her mom got the news a split second before I did, so on Christmas Day 2022, I opened a similar gift. This one had a little red Christmas stocking in it with a piece of paper inside. “What in the world is this?” I thought. I was mystified—until I saw that the little paper was actually the sonogram of child number two.
I may have cried again once the news sank in, causing the others to wonder what was going on. It was my turn to be smug this time as Sonya was sitting across the room in confusion. Eventually everyone came to realize that Samuel was getting a sibling.
Last night was Micah’s birthday. We celebrated at Dogood’s Tavern here in Myerstown, and then we came back to our place to give him his gifts. To our surprise, he then gave us a gift. We had a hunch it might be some sort of gender reveal, much like they did for Samuel.
Sure enough, when we opened the box, a little white onesie greeted us with the joyful announcement:
Hello, my name is Levi Timothy.
Samuel has a brother, and that brother’s name will carry my own. Are you surprised that there may have been more tears? I’m still stunned. And I’m smitten with Levi already. This week he’s the size of a lemon.
We expect to meet Levi sometime around July 18, 2023. Until then, my prayer for him will be Luke 5:28: “And Levi got up, left everything, and followed [Jesus].” Come to think of it, that may be my lifelong prayer for him.
Until Levi makes an appearance, Samuel has the stage all to himself. So, here you go…
Tubby time.Only three teeth so far, but they all need to be brushed.The sock and the sonogram from Christmas Day. The onesie from the big reveal on Micah’s birthday.Samuel is happy about the new one to love, too…Spaghetti time. And time for another tubby time.
Well, apparently there is crying in baseball, contrary to Tom Hanks in A League of Their Own. Like every other Phillies fan around the globe this past Sunday night, I watched Game 5 of the National League Championship Series between the Philadelphia Phillies and the San Diego Padres. As you may have heard by now, the Phillies won that game 4–3, and in the process, they also won the pennant. I may have gotten a little choked up during the post-game celebration. Raise your hand if you did, too. Be honest.
Now, I realize baseball is not everybody’s cup of tea, so this post is a personal reflection that goes beyond the world of sports. It’s more about those occasional flashes of joy that make our journeys sparkle once in a while, and for which we can be both happy and grateful. It’s about “high hopes” and learning how to wait patiently until those hopes are realized. (Thank you, Harry Kalas). Until a few weeks ago, it had been over a decade since the Phillies were involved in any postseason play. Now we’re in it to win it.
Sunday night: The Phillies had just surrendered a one-run lead in the seventh inning to put themselves on the brink of having to go back to California for the rest of the series. Nobody wanted to play Game 6 on Monday night at Petco Park. Not only would that squander our home field advantage, but it would also drag us right into the crosshairs of the Padres’ best pitchers. So, “the Phitins” wanted to clinch a World Series berth right here. Right now. This inning. Easier said than done.
Standout catcher J. T. Realmuto started the bottom of the eighth with a single to left field against right-hander Robert Suarez. That turned out to be huge, given what was about to unfold. The tying run was now on base, and the go-ahead run was coming to the plate. But who would be the next man stepping into the batter’s box? None other than our star cleanup hitter and likely Hall-of-Famer, Bryce Harper.
Everyone was thinking the same thing. A two-run bomb would put us back in the lead and on the verge of clinching. Harper certainly has the guns to do it (even to the opposite field), not to mention the drive, the talent, and the history to do so—but how much magic can we expect from one player? He had already done so much for the team in the postseason, along with Kyle Schwarber, Rhys Hoskins, Zach Wheeler, and several others. But #3 lives for moments like these, and this was his moment.
Harper showed good discipline at the plate, laying off Suarez’s bread-and-butter pitch out of the zone. He then threw a 2-2 sinker toward the outer half of the plate. The location was good from a pitcher’s perspective, but somehow—with his trademark “violent swing”—Harper muscled the ball over the outfield wall and into the left-center-field seats for a two-run shot to take the lead. If you didn’t get to see it, take a look:
Fans at Citizens Bank Park went ballistic. Viewers at home went ballistic. I went ballistic. It was storybook stuff to be sure, and no one could have written a better script. It’s what every little boy dreams about from the time he can swing a whiffle ball bat. This dramatic video clip will be shown for decades to come.
It was another milestone in the history of the club—a team I’ve been cheering for since I was a little boy. That’s why I got choked up Sunday night. Not just because we held on in the top of the ninth to win the game, but because it brought back some truly precious memories. The last time we won the World Series was in 2008 against the Tampa Bay Rays. Before that it was in 1980 against the Kansas City Royals. Before that, it was—well, there was no before that.
The Phillies have won the World Series only two times since becoming an MLB team in 1883. Back then they were known as the Quakers. They became the Phillies later in 1890. For most of those 139 years, it’s been phrustrating to be a phan. I’ve often said that the Phillies are always good enough to give you hope but bad enough to break your heart. That’s been the story for most of my life, with a few notable exceptions.
Why then do I keep cheering for them? Three words—family, friends, and memories. My dad took me to Veterans Stadium for the first time when I was about six or seven years old. It’s a memory that finds deep lodging in my heart, even to this day.
I remember holding my father’s hand walking out from under the shadowy concourse into the bright, shining seating area. The sun sprayed the radiant green AstroTurf with a brilliance that illuminated a perfectly manicured ball field, dazzling this little rookie into silence. I was in awe at the sight of it. And the sounds of it. And the smells of it. It somehow felt like I belonged there. At that moment I fell in love with baseball in general and the Phillies in particular. I’ve been a “Phanatic” ever since.
I also remember my dad getting me a dish of vanilla ice cream poured into in a little red plastic Phillies helmet—my very first baseball souvenir (and one that may still be boxed away somewhere in my attic). We also got hot dogs, French fries, and Cracker Jacks that day, purchased from the vendors walking up and down the aisles hawking their treats. Dad was happy, and I was over the moon. I didn’t understand the game very well back then, but the Phillies won, and that resulted in a lot of loud cheering—something I had never experienced before at that level of intensity.
My family, friends, and I went to many more games over the years, and we got many more souvenirs. Of course, we watched more games on TV than we attended in person, but we always wanted to know how our Phillies were doing. We could catch the nightly news, or read the box scores and standings in the paper the next day if we missed a game on TV. (I had to share the tube with my dad since he was a Yankees fan. Obviously, I’m adopted.) My heroes back then were Mike Schmidt, Larry Bowa, Dave Cash, Pete Rose, Steve Carlton, Bob Boone (who autographed a baseball of mine), Greg Luzinski, Gary Maddox, and Bake McBride.
I got to watch the second World Series victory in 2008 on the big screen with my church family. Several parishioners still remember the final out of that game—a strikeout by closer Brad Lidge—and they wrote us messages this week recalling that wonderful time of fellowship and celebration. Some of the kids were even at church in their pajamas that night.
Oddly enough, the Christian message is another good reason to stay with the Phillies through all their peaks and valleys. As Jesus sticks with those of us who keep striking out spiritually until we become more healthy, stable, and productive, so I can stick with the Phillies through tick and thin, regardless of their winning percentage. The theological word for that is “grace.” We all desperately need it, so we should all be willing to give it.
Having become a baseball junkie early on, I tried out for our middle school team and made the roster. By the start of my second year, I had worked myself into a starting position in the infield, and I loved every minute of it. Game days were always the best days, even when we lost. There’s nothing like going home tired, sweaty, and dirty after a game, knowing you did everything you could to help your team win. If you fielded well and got a hit or two, so much the better.
As life would have it, I was better at swimming than baseball, so that’s where I put my athletic energies in the years to come. I made it to the NCAA Division 1 Nationals, twice, and it wound up paying a big chunk of my college tuition, so that was the right call. But deep down, baseball was always my favorite sport. There’s just something about the game that captivated me as a little boy, and it’s never let go. Over time I learned that every pitch has a strategy, and every strategy has a counterstrategy. So, the issue is always one of anticipation and execution. Good teams do both well.
Back to this past Sunday. Right after preaching the morning service at our church, I came home and lost my voice. Laryngitis set in a few hours before the game, so, I couldn’t even yell for my team during that amazing come-from-behind, pennant-clinching victory. But I sure did grunt and snortle like a muffled rhinoceros a few times.
Then there were the silent but exuberant gesticulations of this little boy in a man suit whenever the Phillies put runs on the board. Sonya now knows how Michal felt when David danced before the Lord (cf. 2 Samuel 6:14–20), though I didn’t actually do anything that could remotely be called dancing. I just lumbered around the living room like a drunk baboon looking for a lamppost to lean on. (I’ll blame it on the meds I was taking.) In the end, though, myriad expressions of delight found ways to ooze out of my body from other portals besides my pie hole.
What will happen in the 2022 World Series? I have no idea, and I make no predictions. Houston has a great team, and I have a personal no-trash-talk policy. Athletes at this level are so good, any team can beat any other team on any given day. It’s just a matter of who’s clicking and who’s finding their groove in the moment. I never expected the Phillies to get this far, and I suspect very few other people did, too. So, even if they come up short at the end of this round, I’ll still be proud of them.
In the end, the best of our sports heroes are just human. They have good days and bad days. They have moments of great accomplishment and moments of great disappointment. They have seasons of good health and seasons of nagging injuries. They have big dreams and big hopes, just like the rest of us. Let’s let them be human and have some fun together, regardless of the outcome.
One dream I’ve had for a long time is to see the Phillies play in a World Series game—in Philadelphia, the city of my birth. I am blessed beyond measure to share with you that this longstanding dream will finally come true.
As of now, it looks like I’ll be going to Game 3 (Monday, October 31) or Game 4 (Tuesday, November 1). Look for me on TV. I’ll be wearing red and white. And if I get my voice back, I’ll be cheering as loud as everybody else, too.
I plan to buy myself a little red plastic Phillies cap filled with vanilla ice cream (yes, they still sell them!), and I’ll think of my dad while I’m eating it. I’ll no doubt revel in the magical atmosphere again, just like I did my first trip to the ballpark. Just like I did on Opening Day this year, which was another first for me. Yes, I was there when Kyle Schwarber started the season off with a first-at-bat home run, something now known as a “Schwarbomb.”
And, like everybody else, I’ll be waving my red “rally towel” for the Phillies, grateful beyond measure that my father introduced me to this wonderful sport all those years ago. While I’m there, I’ll be keeping the seat warm for little Samuel. Maybe someday day he’ll want some ice cream in a red helmet, too.