In the Spring of the Year

Once I was a kid.

While driving by a local high school, I spotted the kid.

He was skinny, all legs and arms, and all by himself between right and center field. At that moment, most of his teammates were clustered near the first base line. Maybe he hadn’t heard there was a team gathering, or maybe he was an outfielder and the gathering was for infielders.

He tossed his glove up and down. Bored? Blissful?

Even after looking at a bunch of kids in baseball uniforms, out for late afternoon practice on a cool spring day, I couldn’t tell you what colors the uniforms were. Were they the high school’s colors? Or was his team part of a city league?

I wasn’t sure.

He was just a kid.


After school.

In this unsettling world of zero tolerance toward weapons on campuses, and drugs, more Trumpian executive orders, and surveys declaring the percentage of junior high students with STDs (sexually transmitted diseases), it’s hard to be a kid. It’s hard to just have fun. And don’t most parents live with an edge of fear these days? All kids, with their cluttered schedules and competition for the best grade-point-average-ticket to college, stagger under the weight of frantic activity and family expectations.

I hoped that kid was happy as he watched the leather glove rise into the sky and then drop back into his hands. Continue reading →

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Uncertain Times

Kynzi . . . home after surgery.
Kynzi . . . home after surgery.

I may not be posting anything here for awhile. Our 11-month old puppy Kynzi had surgery a few days ago and now must have many weeks of recovery. She is supposed to be quiet and have near minimal activity. How do you keep a puppy quiet?

Not easy.

I’m sure things will be better, and maybe we will find a workable schedule that allows me to be “creative” with my writing, but right now my home and routine and world is a tad unsettled.

Sigh. More . . . sometime “soon.”

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On Paris

. . . to bring peace to another person . . .

You probably wouldn’t care about my opinions on Paris and the horror that happened in the City of Light. You probably don’t care about my views on the American drones continuously overhead in Syria where children no longer play (and other places less familiar and equally vulnerable and equally under attack). You have your opinions; I have mine. Some of us disagree, some of us cry, some of us lust for revenge, some of us prefer to close our doors and not think about anything.

But here’s one thought of mine that I hope you might care about . . .

Today (and every day) I will do something to bring peace to another person. I will make every effort not to lie, harm, belittle, bully, humiliate, or ignore another person. I will be, for Christ’s sake, a peacemaker. I will be—with the Muslim friends I love, and Jewish neighbors I have yet to meet, and so many others who are different from me and yet the same as me—someone others can trust. I will not advocate for borders with walls built on fear, or choose weapons as a way to solve problems. Walls only create wounds. Bullets and bombs don’t care who they kill.

I will choose love. I will choose mercy. I will choose hope. I will choose forgiveness until the day I die.

It’s just my opinion. But, I promise you, it’s what I will do.

(I also posted this on my Facebook page a few days ago . . .)

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