You Get to Bat Again

You Get to Bat Again

Carolyn and I attended a Little League double-header baseball game yesterday of a grandnephew.  They won both games, by the way.

We saw some good, yea great hits, and we saw some strikeouts. 

Even for the strikeout kids, they got to bat again.  And more than likely, the next time up to bat, they got a hit. 

We too, you and me. 

I’ve struck out a time or two in life.  And yet I’m still here, batting again.  My mistakes don’t define me.  They don’t stick on me like a bee-on-honey.

And neither do your mistakes. 

Just dropping in to let you now this. 

It’s not rocket science.  It’s not astrophysics. 

It’s a life of tries, attempts, mistakes, strike-outs.  And it’s a life of successes, victories, making it on base, getting the job, marrying the girl or boy.

And come the later years … we look back and say to others “That’s okay.  Today you didn’t make it, but tomorrow is coming.  You get to bat again tomorrow.”

This is my

morning reflection.

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