Baseball

So, Dane pitched on Monday night. He was neither terrible nor wonderful. He walked two batters, then the coach replaced him. But he was happy as a clam. He got to stand on Pitcher's Mound. Him. Dane Doughty. The boy the coach didn't even bother to work with at the beginning of the year because he didn't think his arm was strong enough to ever pitch.

He smiled through the whole pitching experience. I held my breath, winced a few times, and prayed fervently.

But the oddest thing, by far, was last night after his game. Dane, although he played outfield all night, never was really IN the game. No balls ever made it to his neck of the field. He just stood there, poised, ready for the imminent ball that never came. After the game, which was close but a loss for our team (however, it was against one of the top two teams in the league, so we felt pretty good about even scoring against them), the coach gave the players his nightly pep talk. After expressing how pleased he was with every member of the team, he singled Dane out.

"Double D (his nickname for Dane), I talked about you all day today at work. I told everybody about you and how you pitched last night." He went on to talk about how well Dane had pitched and how proud he was of my son.

This seems to happen after every game. He singles Dane out and praises him. I can't quite figure it out. It seems he really likes Dane, which thrills me, but I don't completely understand.

I have to chalk it all up to one thing: we prayed for Dane to make it onto whatever team the Lord wanted him on. And I'm certain the Lord answered that prayer.

He has never enjoyed playing a game as much as he has baseball this season. He practices non-stop and talks baseball constantly. His skills have hugely improved and he's much more secure and confident than I've ever seen him. He's right where God wanted him. . .

. . . pitching occasionally, playing outfield mostly, striking out some. Right where God wants him - and darn happy about it.