Round the Bases by Susan L.

  The batter hits the ball waaaay out in left field. Is it in? Is it foul? Nope! It's good! He tears around the bases as the ball bounces off the back of the outfield wall. The outfielder fumbles an on-the-run-two-finger scoop...the home crowd groans...he picks it up again and whips it as hard as he can towards third base.  
  Too late!
  The base coach frantically waves the runner on, "GO! GO! GO! Take 'er home!"
  The visiting fans erupt from their seats with roars of encouragement!
  The catcher tosses off his face mask and stands alert for the third baseman's throw. It tears into his mitt with a bone cracking whack. The runner drops to the ground and slides towards him in a breath choking cloud of dust and gravel. The catcher's tag attempt is nanoseconds too late.
  The umpire calls it, with a swipe of his arms, "Yrrrrrr SAFE!"
 
  It would be a completely different story if the ball players were young children or if it were told by a person in the bleachers. That would be impacted by what team they were cheering for. What if the runner was called out? How about hearing from the outfielder that botched the pick up?
  It would be terribly amusing to hear from an ant who was crossing the plate just as the runner slid home. It makes me laugh a bit at its expense, poor thing. Can you imagine its bug-eyed expression as a pair of massive, cleated shoes heads straight for it? It would survive. At least, in my story, by body surfing the wave of dirt.
  Perspectives. Hmmmm.
  The idea leaves me feeling a bit teary-eyed.
  I suppose the threatening waterworks are an acknowledgement of my own brokenness and how it shapes my world view. I realize that view is often out in left field but, it is my reality. Maybe even more so because of the consequences history has left me trying to cope with. Those consequences shape how I think and feel in the present. It's another ugly, ole hamster wheel and one I'd be more than happy to jump off of.
  Still, there is beauty on the wheel. An acknowledgement that even though the events mentioned yesterday sent me into a downward spiral, there was no major panic attack in the moment. That's a barometer of victory and should be celebrated.
  Also, the piano piece I'd been working on, growing frustrated because it wasn't going anywhere for several weeks is now completed. It had no title, no direction which was part of the problem. I should have known the Lord was saving it for me. It's called "The Black River."
  "For the Son of Man has come to save that which was lost." Mat 18:11