As the years went on I would like to think my dad was more of a baseball junkie than I was. He would watch the games on tv and listen to them on the radio. I how ever would be doing something else. We grew to enjoy different things but baseball always remained the same. An enjoyable event for a father and son to do together.
I love my dad with all my heart. No matter our different views on things, my love for him is and always will be the same. The older i got, i valued the times at the baseball games with him. When i was young, they were simply overly-long but entertaining baseball games; now they are truly happy moments that will be burned in my memory with my father forever.
A point came where we were going to be separated for a very long period of time. During this time anything in God's will could happen so i wanted to make our last (before his long absence) baseball game to be the pinnacle of father-son baseball memories.
At the game i had planed on getting a ball signed AND getting a foul ball all in the same game, just for my father.
We arrived early at the game and i managed to ninja my pen and ball to one of the favored base ball players on the team for his scribble of a signature. Now all i had to do is get a foul ball...
The innings passed and no foul ball. Nearing the end of the game i questioned if i would even have an opportunity to get one for my dad at all. I figured this would be silly but i looked up to God hoping maybe he wasn't to busy saving souls but instead help me just simply get a foul ball for my dad.
In the 7th inning a batter struck out and another was walking up to the plate. My dad got up to get some more snacks and i was left alone to fight for a foul ball if it ever came my way.
"Dear Lord of heaven!" I said looking up to the stars in the open base ball stadium. "Please Lord, let me get a foul ball for my dad!" I looked back at the batter getting ready to swing. Two strikes later i was still waiting for the Lord of the Universe to answer my simple and less important prayer.
As the batter nicked three other pitches, making the count two strikes and three balls, I simply figured God, the creator of the Universe, saver of souls and judge of all of man kind had more important things going on than to answer my simple primitive prayer.
Bam! The crack of the baseball bat! everyone around me jumped to their feet screaming. I looked up and i saw a foul ball that was headed in my direction. I leaped to my feet and i remember this moment vividly and in slow motion. I reached up into the air to catch the ball. The ball flew threw the air, and over my glove. If only i was a few inches taller. I wasn't tall enough. If I had only jumped i would have caught the foul ball for my dad.
Devastated i turned around to see who caught the ball i prayed for. As did, the foul ball rolled to my feet and between my toes. In shock, I calmly reached down and picked it up.
While all the people were fighting for it, they couldn't grasp on to it. They kicked it around and it bounced out of gloves, hands, laps, and off shoes and rolled to me. In all of the directions it was kicked, slapped, and pushed, it calmly rolled to my feet and between my shoes.
I picked up the foul ball that i had prayed for. I had the foul ball to give to my dad.
The creator of the universe, Judge of all of man-kind, savior to the world, and King of all Kings was listening. My simple and primitive prayer meant so much, that this grand God took his time to answer it. Because of this moment, because of this answer, i know God is always listening; no matter how little the prayer is, God is willing to answer.
Of all the game days, batters, innings, seats, pitches, weather conditions, angles to swing the bat, different velocities of a pitch, the exact moment after the prayer, and to the person who genuinely prayed; the odds of this alone is evidence that there are no odds, there is no 'chance'; that the odds of aliens, big foot, and me walking on the moon are more probable. You do the math. I'll trust in something more obvious. A God that cares about all prayers, even the smallest of prayers.
This is my proof God loves me... that, or baseball.