Come sit around... Lemme tell you a story...
Late afternoon sun saturated the sky. A light breeze strummed the branches of the trees, and shirts on the clothesline sang along in harmony. A little boy played in the front yard while mom prepared dinner inside. He was throwing a baseball up in the air and catching it, throwing it up in the air and catching it. An older man who had recently moved into the house a quarter-mile down the road was out for a walk. He caught sight of the little boy throwing a baseball up in the air and catching it. As he walked along the road in front of the boy's house, he called out to the boy.
"Now why are you out here playing catch all by your lonesome?"
The ball slapped into the boy's glove. Turning to meet the man's gaze, the boy responded, "Sorry, sir. I ain't out here playing alone."
"Oh, you ain't?" The old man chuckled. "Looks to me like you're playing a one-man game of catch." He stopped by the boy's mailbox and leaned against it, curious to see what the boy was going to say.
"No, sir. I'm playing catch with God."
"Playing catch with God?"
"Yes, sir. I play catch with God every day, and I talk to Him every night." The boy threw the ball back up into the air and eyed it as it dropped back into his glove.
"Oh, is that so?"
"Yes, sir," the boy responded.
"I understand that you talk with God every night, but just how do you play catch with God, son?"
"Every night I talk with God." He launched the ball into the air again.
"Yes, I understand that bu-"
"... and it works like this." The boy caught the ball as it dropped back down. "I kneel beside my bed each night before bedtime and I talk to Him. I tell Him what problems I've been having, what things I'm thankful for, what I like about Him. Sometimes, or a lot of the time, I don't think He's there. He don't talk back to me. He don't say nothing. Sometimes I don't feel like He's there... but I talk to Him. I tell Him what problems I've been having, what things I'm thankful for, what I like about Him. Now I don't know how, or why, or for what purpose, but sometimes He answers me, and it may not be the same day, but He answers me. But the way I see it, until I get an answer, I'm just gonna keep talking to Him. And every time He answers, I'm just gonna keep talking to Him."
The old man stood, looked up at the sky, looked at the boy. "So how do you play catch with God, son?"
"Well the way I see it, me playing catch with God is like this. Every day I go out, and I toss this ball up in the air, and I catch it. I toss the ball up, and I catch it. Now I may not know how, or why, or for what purpose it does, but the ball always comes back down to me. Nice thing is is that all I have to do is toss this ball back up in the air. As long as I keep tossing this ball up in the air, it's gonna come back down to me, and I'd better be prepared to catch it."
The boy held the ball in his hand and inspected it as he spoke.
"Now if I have this here ball and I don't toss it up in the air when I catch it, then we ain't playing catch no more..."
He gripped the ball, swung it low, and tossed it up above the trees that were singing in the breeze. It glistened in the day's dimming light and fell with the sun. A second later, it slapped back into the boy's glove.
"... but as long as I toss this here ball up in the air, and I catch it. I'm playing catch. And not only that, I'm playing catch with God."
Best Wishes!
~Richie