Playing Catch

My mom invited me over for dinner the other day. Like usual, I dropped by a bit earlier than the time that she told me dinner would be ready. I try to get there before dinner because every afternoon, my 12 year old brother, Trenton, steps off the bus, hurries through his homework, and then goes outside to play. 

One of his favorite things to do is play catch with a football. He’ll play catch with anyone who can throw, and it really doesn’t matter if darkness has already fallen or if it’s raining or frigidly cold–he simply wants to be throwing and catching a football.

One of his other favorite things to do is spend time with me. I’m not trying to be presumptuous. My other brother and I have since moved out of the house (I stayed local, he moved to Texas) so Trenton suddenly went from having two older brothers to being, in effect, an only child. Ergo, my visits are coveted. 

So when Trenton finishes his homework and goes outside to play, I try to be there early so he can combine two of his favorite activities (playing catch and hanging out with me). We’ll run routes and take turns being receiver and quarterback, and oftentimes we’ll keep playing until it gets dark and we have to either try to play by the light of the streetlamp or car headlights. It’s a pretty even matchup; he’s quite an athlete, and I am certainly not.

The thing that gets me, though, is the fact that if I didn’t come over, then he probably wouldn’t have anyone to play catch with. The neighbors’ kids are all his age or younger, and therefore not near as good as him. So he’ll play, but often get bored. So it is kind of an all-or-nothing deal. It’s easy to see that playing catch with me is one of his most cherished times of the week. See, this combination of two of his favorite things suddenly becomes his favorite thing. For that short time that we are playing catch, all is right in his life. Nothing matters but the fact that he is tossing around a football with his older brother.

The neat thing about it is that I really enjoy it too. I mean, I could easily view playing catch as an obligation or service to him, but it is genuinely fun to just hang out with my brother. It isn’t very often in life that someone truly cherishes every second that they spend with me. 

Now it’s going to seem weird to suddenly compare the Creator of everything to a 12 year old kid. I mean, what can they possibly have in common? 

It’s interesting how easily I forget that God, just like my brother, simply wants to spend time with me. So much, in fact, that he cherishes that time. Covets it. Gets jealous when I forgo that time to do other things. When he began this experiment of mankind, he made a decision that he was going to set aside his duties of being the big giant Creator of the Universe and become a being whose primary focus was unfettered love of his people–us. He made a decision to follow us, pursue us, and love us with the same adoration of a 12 year old kid because spending time with us is his favorite thing. Nothing else matters. The fact that we have turned him away so many times in the past is forgotten. The fact that we have abused his love becomes an afterthought because communing with us is his favorite thing in the world. 

In fact, it’s the reason we were created in the first place.