Passion, Love, Confusion....

"We've got troubles here...I'm needed here" said Papa.
"Then it's clear as beer," said the Bull. "You try out with the Portland Tugs. Won't have to move an inch."
"Tell you what," Papa said. "Promise me they'll match my Crown Z pay and keep me until I'm 65, and okay, fine. I'll try the Tugs."
"Keeerist!" Durham exploded. "Where's your sense of adventure?"
"This family, " Papa said, "is all the adventure I can stand right now."
"Then stand 'em less for Chrisssake! Where's your sense of baseball adventure?"
"You just saw it, " Papa said calmly, "out there in the shed."
"But why, why, why? Why jail it up out there?"
"Because I'm baseball ancient, Gale. I've had my adventures. And if I don't pay some bills the next few years I'm gonna screw up the adventures of my kids."
"So you admit it," said Durham bitterly.
"Admit what?"
"You've betrayed the game," Durham said. "You've sold out."
Papa's face blackened. "To that mill? Me? You're dead wrong there, Durham!"
"Then what is a sellout?" Durham fired back. "Explain this love for your paycheck and retirement benefits some other way. And explain the whole damned rest o' this ensemble while you're at it. What is this St. Hubert Savior of Kids crap? What's this mill foreman, middle American, PTA an' NRA an' Three A Car club member shit? Dwight D. Christ! Votin' the straight Republican ticket now are we, Hubert? Ain't drank none neither, I s'pose, since we joined the charch?
"Are we gonna part enemies, Gale," Papa said, "or are you gonna shut your mouth?"
"What I'm gonna do, my onetime ballplayin' friend," Durham said softly, "is die lovin' the game of baseball. An' what you're gonna do, if you betray that same love, is die confused."
That did it. The old man had finally loosed an arrow that flew straight to Papa's heart: we felt it hit, we saw Papa start to bleed.
"Look at me," Bull said. And for a terrible minute he let all the passion and animation fall out of his face, so that it just hung there, gray and slack and listless. "This is baseball ancient," he said. "An' now look at you."
We looked. And saw a beautiful, vital, miserably confused man.
Durham said, "Just tell your kids and me the truth here, is all I'm askin' O' St. Hubert the Confused. Don't, number one, throw fifty pitches better than the best fifty of my big league life, then tell us you ain't got the stuff. And don't, number two, argue spitball morality with me. The Good Book itself says a man should earn his livin' by the sweat of his brow. Now the situation with Laura, I know nothing about. But don't, number three, Hubert, try tellin' me it's good for these kids to see their old man stay a factory hand, an' hate it, just for a buck. Don't tell me that not bein' true to the work you've always loved most an' did best is a help to your kids. Just repeat after me, if it's the truth: 'I give up on baseball. I just don't love the game no more.'"
Somehow the silence that followed, in my ears, had a stadium roar. And Papa found nothing to say to quiet it.
"You got one choice, son," Durham said finally. "These kids here think you're a ballplayer. You an' Laura used to think so, too. An' I am here to tell the world that you sure as hell still pitch like a ballplayer. But an honest player let's the game decide when he's finished. There's no other honorable escape. So you got one tryout left, Hubert. Show the game what you got, and let IT decide." -excerpt from, "The Brothers K" by David James Duncan


I read this dialogue a couple nights ago and was left astonished and bewildered at how much I resonated with it. Maybe it was the baseball nostalgia that I'm feeling this time of year. Maybe it is the relationship that Papa has with his boys throughout the story and how much Kincaid (the narrator) loves, respects, and admires his Papa, and I'm left with thoughts of the relationship I have with my father whom I love, respect, and admire dearly. I don't know. But whatever it was, this dialogue hit a spot in my heart that left me feeling passionate, hopeful, and full of dreams.

What is it in my life that I love doing more than anything else? What is it that makes my heart come alive?

After all, "we were meant to live for so much more!"

My debt Nailed

Before the throne of God above
I have a strong and perfect plea.
A great high Priest whose Name is Love
Who ever lives and pleads for me.
My name is graven on His hands,
My name is written on His heart.
I know that while in Heaven He stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart.

When Satan tempts me to despair
And tells me of the guilt within,
Upward I look and see Him there
Who made an end of all my sin.
Because the sinless Savior died
My sinful soul is counted free.
For God the just is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me.

Behold Him there the risen Lamb,
My perfect spotless righteousness,
The great unchangeable I AM,
The King of glory and of grace,
One in Himself I cannot die.
My soul is purchased by His blood,
My life is hid with Christ on high,
With Christ my Savior and my God!


Colossians 2:13-14 "And when you were dead in your transgressions and the uncircumcision of your flesh, HE made you alive together with HIM, having forgiven us all our transgressions, having cancelled out the certificate of debt consisting of decrees against us and which were hostile to us; and HE has taken it out of the way, having nailed it to the Cross.


What truth! What power! How can I keep from singing? How can I keep from shouting the name of Jesus? The risen Lamb. The anointed King. Savior. Redeemer. Deliverer. When Satan tempts me to despair, tells me of the certificate of debt consisting of decrees against me, upward I look and see Christ, who has taken it out of the way, having nailed it to the Cross.

Hallelujah! Amen!