My problem, one of them, could be described as trying to stay on first base. No matter what. I got here, I was successful, now I just want to stay. To enjoy being safe. Too risky trying to go to second. Third might as well be on the moon. Home? Nah.

Is it the risk or the amount of effort required to move that keeps me on first? Doesn’t matter. When my teammate gets a hit, I have to move or I will be out and so will he. The game is to advance. Not to stay. Not forever.

You got to go.

Maybe I’ll get tagged out. Maybe I’ll blow out my knee sliding into second or third or home. Maybe I’ll get hit in the face by the throw from the shortstop trying to finish the double play.

But maybe, just maybe, I’ll turn second and get waved to third. Maybe as I approach third, they’ll be waving me around to score. Maybe, it’s going to be close at home. Maybe the throw will be cut off and I’ll slide home safe!

Or maybe the outfielder hits the cutoff perfectly, and the relay gets there just in time. Maybe the catcher blocks the plate and applies the tag, and the umpire calls me out.

Regardless, safe or out, we keep playing. If I’m the final out today, we’ll play again tomorrow. If it’s not, there’s still a chance to get it done today.

Regardless, we have to keep playing. We have to keep taking our turns, doing our best, sometimes safe, sometimes out. Sometimes making errors.

But sometimes, we make the play that changes the game. Sometimes, we’re the outfielder throwing the guy out at home. Sometimes we drive in the go-ahead run. Sometimes we hit the walk-off home run. And that is why we play.

To make the difference.

Lord,

I thank you for this wonderful insight. I thank you for giving me so many at-bats. I thank you for your coaching and direction. I thank you for your patience when I strike out. And when I don’t run when I should. I know that running too much is not my issue, that I am too conservative on the bases. I have to trust my speed. The speed you gave me.