He's Not Having A Ball!

The main events that have dotted our summer are over and this week we have finally settled into Official Summertime School Break relaxation mode. No impending events, no hovering commitments, just laundry and cleaning and time spent with friends and catching fireflies and the library. And a couple thousand other "little" things, but they are things within our own family and timetable.

So, I thought, it's time to FINALLY catch up on so many posts I've not only been promising, but also which I have been WANTING to write, especially before the memory of details slowly fades as time always promises. Today I was going to thank my dear sweet friend Michele, not only for the sweet, sweet honor she bestowed upon me in the form of a blogger award, but also for the bag of home grown pistachios she sent us in the mail. Thanks Michele! I'll e-mail you. Then I was going to answer my Grandma's e-mail, then finally share my thoughts on my Lollipop in her new Christian life.

But here's what happened.

My son lost it. I mean utterly, totally and completely lost it. And I certainly do not even blame him. As of today, July 10, 2007, we officially have received more rain in our city for this year than we usually receive in a whole year through December! Every news cast for the past two weeks leads with some rain-related story. Flooding is the obvious major wide spread problem right now. Then there's potholes, loss of revenue from dozens of outdoor event cancellations, and on a personal level, my husband has been unable to work in almost a month. But I have not complained. I haven't needed to. I am well aware that God has his reasons and I can always trust in them. Perhaps this summer he is trying to provide free swimming lessons to everyone! :) I don't know. But we regularly use this example with our children when the rain prevents them from an activity they have been anticipating.

"I know you are disappointed, but the farmers need the rain to grow the crops so that
everyone can eat, honey. If it NEVER rained, we would never have food. And it will
always be inconvenient for SOMEONE when it rains. Sometimes that means us. Even
though in the long run, it's also for our good."

I have been so proud of the kids. Their summer baseball schedule officially started on June 3. That practice night was cancelled due to rain - as was the June 5 practice and the June 6 game. And EVERY single practice AND every game since then! I am not kidding!!! My poor, excited, patient, sports-loving, 5-year-old has not donned his uniform ONE TIME this summer. He has been disappointed. He has been sullen and sad. But he has been SO SWEET, as his voice shook and his eyes averted heaven-ward and he's said with a half-convinced sigh, "It's O.K., the farmer's food is more important than sports." My husband and I would watch him with pity and with pride and hope that maybe by the next game, the field would be dry.

Last night, it rained 5 inches here. I was skeptical whether tonight he would get to finally even MEET HIS COACH FOR PETE SAKE by going to the field to play. It's been overcast all day. The boys have watched the weather reports and the e-mail on pins and needles all day to get the verdict. Then, the sun peeked out. THE SUN. We know what it is because the news describes how the west side of the country is drying out from it! Sheesh.

So the sun peeked out and the boys begged me to check the e-mail again, "Please, Mom, it's sunny, can we check it, can we check it right now, please!" So I did. It had only been 20 minutes from the last check.

"All games for Tuesday, July 10 have been CANCELLED due to field conditions."

My 10-year-old ignored me as he walked to the living room to catch the rest of the show his sister is watching from her sick bed.

But Justice. Well, he has finally had enough of trying to be patient. He just couldn't hold it in for an instant longer. His frustration and disappointment has finally reached the same saturation point as the houses on the nearby river! He cried and cried and cried and cried. I held him. And he cried. Then cried and cried some more. The poor child. His first word as a baby was "ball." He had to wait two years for us to even put him in sports because of all of our timing struggles the past few years. He was devastated and today he didn't need lectures or explanations or farmer's stories, but a hug.

Once he calmed down enough, I told him his Daddy and I had already decided last night that if the games were cancelled again, we'd go to the batting cages tonight, then out for pizza. This seemed like a surprisingly suitable compromise to him. Then his next question made me giggle inside. "Mom, can I please wear my uniform to go to hit balls tonight? I just really want to wear it." Well......why would I ever say "No" to that?! (He actually didn't even want to wait for tonight so he is changing clothes as I type.) :)

Sometimes, when you're temporarily unable to do the work, you have to keep the dream alive by at least playing the part.

Into every life a little rain must fall, but eventually I'm assuming it must also dry up again.....so the poor boy's tears might as well.