Psalm 119:99 Take Me Out

In 1993 my son and I began attending Mizzou Baseball games. By the end of our first season of occasionally going to games, we had both fallen in love with being at the ballpark. The following year we bought season tickets and were at nearly every home game for the next several years.

For the next several years, we threw ourselves into Mizzou Baseball.

Cody gave himself over to absorbing the full range of the ballpark experience. I allowed him a lot of freedom during games, and he made the most of it.

He hung out next to the dugout during games, relentlessly trying to start conversations with the players. They treated him like a team mascot, answering his questions, joking around with him, and playing pranks on him. In turn, he learned a completely different aspect of the game than the one I was seeing from the stands. He would never play the game himself, but he has an intimate knowledge of life in the dugout.

When he wasn't by the dugout, he was running all over the ballpark with whatever instant friends he made. Today's friend might be the younger brother of a player, while tomorrow's would be the children of a fan or a coach. Because he spent so much time all over the stadium, he knew every nook and cranny intimately. He knew the ballpark rules better than the part-time event staff did. In Cody's mind, he was the king of Simmons Field.

While Cody was having the run of the place, I was usually sitting in the same place game after game. Midway through my second season as a regular fan, I had found the perfect spot to sit that offered me the ideal angle for watching the game. And with Cody out of sight and generally out of mind, I began to focus on the game itself like I never had.

I learned to watch every moment of the game, absorbing the details and savoring them. A batter's unique mannerisms as he steps up to the plate. The way an outfielder steps across to reposition himself for each new hitter. The minutiae of Jayce Tingler's perfect drag bunt for a hit. The smell of the crowd and the field. That moment when the sun has set and the lights bathe the field, the diamond sparkling.

On the best days, I would so lose myself in the game that I would completely forget concerns about my job, my finances, or anything else.

I also began studying the differences between the rules of major league baseball and college baseball. I learned about the recruiting process and scholarships.

This was the 1990's, during the early days of the internet, and I learned to use search engines and other tools to mine information about players and teams and the game itself. As a fan of a sport that didn't have many regular fans at the time, I became an expert on everything Mizzou Baseball. For over a decade I poured my knowledge and my energies into a fan blog dedicated to my Tigers.

Cody and I, each in our own way, were meditating on Mizzou Baseball.

I have more insight than all my teachers,
for I meditate on your statutes


Psalm 119:99

As Cody passed through his teen years, he no longer went with me to the ballgames. Now, as an adult, he'll occasionally stop by to join me when he has "nothing better to do." I watch his eyes when he's there, and I can still see the joy of being at the game that he soaked up during the years he meditated on the ballpark atmosphere.

I still have season tickets and make it to a lot of the games every year. But I'm no longer maintaining that blog, and my absorption of all the details of Tiger Baseball has decreased drastically.

I realized a few years ago that I was spending too much time meditating on baseball and sharing my knowledge of the Tigers, at the expense of too little time spent meditating on God and His Word.

Now I want to be a season ticket holder with a front row seat to observe everything God is doing in the world around me. I want to study His actions and deeply study His words, so I can have true insight into how He wants me to live. I want to have free run to pursue His purposes and seize every opportunity He puts in front of me. I want to soak up everything about life in Him.

I want to lose myself in the life He has planned for me, so that it's no longer I that live, but Christ who lives in me (Galatians 2:20). I want to live so fully in His kingdom that I tend to forget about this world in which I live and breathe.

I don't care if I never come back.