Secrets of Belly Laughs

I love my mom! It's as simple as that.

She is quirky and funny, opinionated and strong, stubborn and vulnerable. She is not perfect but she is lovely. We have had our hard times. My uncle, her youngest brother, says this about her: "She loves you and she is a good sister to me even though I give her all kind of crap. Sometimes you need a rock in the storm and that is her."

That's a woman I don't mind being like. My ability to stand strong in my faith is a gift my mother taught me, along with many other things, like jumping in leaves and a love of books and knowledge. One of my favorite things in the world is to travel with her, specifically cross country or long distances. Sometimes i reach across the console and hold her hand. Yes, I still hold my mom's hand. It's my favorite fact about myself.

Her commentary in life is one of the things that makes me laugh even when that storm comes (trust me, in our family the storms come often). I call them little ditties. Some nights they just roll off her tongue. I start to laugh and then she starts to laugh and it keeps going until we are both holding our sides and tears are running down our faces.

Tonight, it started when she asked me a question I had just answered. When I reminded her of this, her answer was
"I can't remember. I probably have it written down somewhere. I just need to find it." For some reason, this caught me by funny. I tell my mom when this happens that I am going to put her ditty on twitter. She hates this but then she corrects my spelling and tells me what she said again so I can remember it correctly. We laugh that she says she doesn't want me to post but will tell me what to say. Once that starts, we are off. She tells me "I am going to leave you by the side of the road with a sign that says Will twitter for free." More laughing and more bantering. What finally sends us into the belly laughs is her finally ditty and declaration: "I need to go to the bathroom when we get home, so I get the downstairs bathroom." I tell her you just called "Dips on a bathroom." She tells me "Yep when you get old, you don't call shotgun. You call dips on the good bathroom."

Belly laughs are good for the soul.

Jesus plays Baseball

I think Disney may have actually gotten the story right for once. There really are angels in the backfield. Saturday night, I had the privilege of watching the most amazing game of baseball ever. Where I am pretty sure Jesus was playing in the infield along with the most incredible kids and a couple pretty cool parents. There is a league here in the greater Seattle area for "special needs" kids. The rules of the game are simple. Everyone hits, everyone plays. Anyone who wants to play gets to play. The kids are out to have fun and just get a little piece of normalcy. It was maybe too amazing to describe: (Won't stop me from trying-Everyone plays!)

One kid was wheelchair bound. His dad brought him to the game, pushed him around the bases, helped him ground a fielder and give high fives. When they were coming home to score, they would do a wheelie over home plate and the sound that moved me was the giggles that erupted from this petite child, no longer limited by his disability (the story gets better because I learned later he was adopted. That may be the bravest father I have ever meet).

The other team also hosted some many amazing talents. I pushed back tears and smiled at the same time when Bob, a blind teenager, came up to bat. He stood at the plate, ready to hit. They used an adapted softball which would beep. Bob was able to tell if it was high or low or right on just by hearing it and believe me he didn't have a problem telling his coach who was pitching if it was too low. He hit every time he was at bat, then his 50-something old coach would run in front of him around the bases and Bob would follow along behind him, smiling and shouting "I got it."

My final excitement was my sweet buddy Dalton hitting a "Home run." Really it was an infield single but this boy likes to run He even out ran his teammates around the bases. Dalton has a trach and compromised lungs but his body has adapted and now he is a speedster. Nothing would slow him down. He thrilled when he learned his dad was able to watch it on-line, even though he couldn't be there in person. I think he started dreaming about the stories he is going to tell about "the night he hit a home run."

The scoreboard said 10-10 in the end. As Dalton and his brothers and I climbed into the car to go home, he asked if a tie meant everyone lost. His big brothers assured him that it meant everyone won. Everyone really did win. The coach said "Everyone touched the ball, everyone that wanted to got to play, the weather was perfect. It was a beautiful night." I am remind of the story of the woman who believed that by touching Jesus' cloak she would be healed. Jesus said "You took a risk of faith and now you are healed and whole! Live well, Live blessed!" These kids took a risk of faith as they stepped out onto that field. They too live well and live blessed!

Yep, I am pretty sure Jesus plays baseball but I know Jesus is for everyone!