Last night I dreamed I told my baseball-loving doctor friend in KC about my catch playing craziness. Her dream advice was simple, “Get to Florida.”
I think my family and my friend Aaron would be particularly fond of that advice. I’m not sure, however, about the possibility of making that dream come true.
Last summer Harper was the one who initiated the Sunday morning pre-church exercise routine. Sometimes, Brennan and Atticus joined us.
Today, we gathered on the first day of the week for the breaking of bread, the praying of prayers, and the playing of catch. I’m convinced playing catch is just another way of praying. Today was also the first time Chloe joined the pre-church game. The four of us were an unofficial welcoming crew as we dodged those seeking parking on the grass lot in between tosses.
No cars were hit. No windows broken.
Chloe initially said she just wanted to watch, that she couldn’t catch or throw. But Chloe was wrong.
“That was fun,” Chloe said after worship.
Sundays, of course, are for double headers.
As soon as the last “Amen” was said, Harper waved his glove at me and I smiled. We again tossed the ball, dodged cars, and greeted friends as we enjoyed a perfect January Missouri day — 68 degrees.
Now, go Jacksonville and Minnesota!
