Homer, Strike, Foul, or Hit by the Pitch
When I pull up to the home plate of life each day, I like to think that every ball sent my way is gonna be a homer straight out of the park. That’s just how I prefer to think, but I also understand reality. There are indeed days where the ball sails right by me or I just get a little piece of it and it ends up as a foul. And on rare occasions, I feel like I took a 96 mph fast ball right to the gut.
Depending on how many times I step up to the plate each day, any one of the items listed above can happen. The difference is that I continue to step up to the plate, risking getting hit with the fast ball, striking out, hitting a foul, or blowing the jacket off the ball with a homer. It’s a choice each day. I can stay in the dugout, or I can walk up to the plate. I recall the old saying of “practice makes perfect.” I’m not so sure that holds true for me any longer. I like to say “practice makes me better.” The more I go to the plate, the better I become at recognizing what is being thrown my way. Oh I still do get hit and accept that is a part of life, but I don’t get hit as much as I used to. Practice has made me better.
Sure there are mornings when I wake up thinking I don’t feel like stepping up to the plate. I just want to walk away from the game, but I know that is not the right choice, as the good Lord has blessed me with the ability to play the game. No matter whether it is a homer, strike, foul, or getting hit by a pitch, I know being able to play the game of life is indeed a gift. So I continue to work on practicing to make me better.
Rodeo Rod - Riding Into The Final Week of Rodeo
When I pull up to the home plate of life each day, I like to think that every ball sent my way is gonna be a homer straight out of the park. That’s just how I prefer to think, but I also understand reality. There are indeed days where the ball sails right by me or I just get a little piece of it and it ends up as a foul. And on rare occasions, I feel like I took a 96 mph fast ball right to the gut.
Depending on how many times I step up to the plate each day, any one of the items listed above can happen. The difference is that I continue to step up to the plate, risking getting hit with the fast ball, striking out, hitting a foul, or blowing the jacket off the ball with a homer. It’s a choice each day. I can stay in the dugout, or I can walk up to the plate. I recall the old saying of “practice makes perfect.” I’m not so sure that holds true for me any longer. I like to say “practice makes me better.” The more I go to the plate, the better I become at recognizing what is being thrown my way. Oh I still do get hit and accept that is a part of life, but I don’t get hit as much as I used to. Practice has made me better.
Sure there are mornings when I wake up thinking I don’t feel like stepping up to the plate. I just want to walk away from the game, but I know that is not the right choice, as the good Lord has blessed me with the ability to play the game. No matter whether it is a homer, strike, foul, or getting hit by a pitch, I know being able to play the game of life is indeed a gift. So I continue to work on practicing to make me better.
Rodeo Rod - Riding Into The Final Week of Rodeo
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