Last night, I took Claire to her first major league baseball game. I won four tickets thru work, so we went down with two friends and we had a great time watching a great game between the Baltimore Oriole’s and the Chicago White Sox. I had originally thought that we would only stay thru the 7th and then fly home (I wanted to make sure the kids got home to get a good night’s rest before their second day of school). But the game as so good and close that we stayed thru the very end of the ninth. And we had amazing seats. We were three rows behind the O’s dugout.
The girls had a blast. I did not realize that Claire would have absolutely no idea what was going on, and I found myself explaining everything about the game. This is something I never thought I would do. Turns out I love to watch the game more than I thought I did. It also turns out I also remember quite a bit about the game that I used to hate to play. Claire asked all kinds of questions, but not of them had to do with “When…?”
“When is the third inning?”
“When does the inning end.”
“When do the players run back to the dugout?”
“When can I get my ball signed?”
But all of these questions were centered around the fact that I had told Claire of some things we could do, some things I had said I would do for her. She was listening to my words and was weighing me by them. She is really listening to me and watching me. Does what I say hold true about the players on the field? Will I do what I can to stand behind my promises of cotton candy and drinks? Do I know what I’m talking about?
* * *
And at home sat another little girl waiting. I took one daughter and left two more at home. Alice probably didn’t notice, but Lily did. And Lily’s first question when I saw her this morning was, “Daddy, is tonight our daddy/daughter date?”.
Lily is weighing me, too. I have two girls who are putting me through the scales at different levels and they are watching everything I do and listening to everything I do. And it matters to me that I do this right. I know I’m Not the only one being measured out… The status of faith is being weighed. The status of husband to their mum is being weighed. The status of being a follower of Christ is being measured.
And it’s all being weighed in me by my words and deeds. Not three separate guys. My body is my soul and my soul is my body; the Spirit does not easily separate from the Temple. I need strength more than anything else. And faith to be strong.