This has been a week of heartbreak in the community where I live and the community where I grew up. On Sunday afternoon, a beloved high school baseball coach and his sweet wife were tragically killed while trying to help rebuild the high school's baseball field that had been damaged in a recent hurricane. My hometown has survived much damage but has been resilient, picking up the pieces and rebuilding their lives. But they never saw the storm coming that hit them on Sunday afternoon. It was a curve ball, so to speak, that devastated my alma mater and the surrounding communities. Sunday afternoon, we were returning from a trip to see our youngest. This weekend was the 5th anniversary of her father's death and it seemed like a good time to go visit her. Sunday was beautiful. Cool, but not too cold. Sunny. Blue skies. A perfect day for a workday...not a perfect day for a storm. Early in the afternoon, I noticed a missed call from my sister...about the same time, I saw a post from the Sheriff in my hometown...there had been a tragic accident at the baseball field and two were deceased and another injured.
Quickly, I called my sister and she relayed the story. She first asked me if I knew the Crum's, since they were from the town in which I now live. I did not know them. She then told me the story and my heart broke. Suddenly, even though I didn't know them, I felt tears welling in my eyes. It's not supposed to be this way. My heart broke for their children and the family left behind. My heart broke for their team, who would now have to attempt to process the happenings of this day and grieve the loss of their coach and his wife. My heart broke for communities...for Liberty and Wakulla counties...but also for the baseball community, a community that cannot be defined by county lines, but rather is a brotherhood that is tight knit and very much a family.
Sunday night, I couldn't sleep. I just kept replaying the events (even though I wasn't there) and kept thinking of the ripple effect this day would have. Monday brought a clearer picture of what had happened, but the feeling that your breath had just been knocked out of you remained. No one, no matter how well they had been trained, saw this coming. I prayed for everyone affected. I asked God to give me words...but none would come. Just silence. Until this morning, when I felt like He gave me a picture...and I hope that it helps someone.
This morning God gave me a picture of a bag, one like ball players carry. You know, the serious ball players. The ones who have their own bat. In my younger days, I was not an athlete. I was a statistician. I traveled with the team and sat with the team. I cheered the team on. But I didn't get on the field. I carried a bag, too, but what was in my bag was different from what the players carried. I carried a stat book and lots of pencils...and a good eraser! Their bags were different from mine...but they were also all different from each other. Some carried that special bat. Some had a glove or even a backup glove. Some balls and some even had their own helmets. Some even had something in the bag that they thought would bring them luck. They didn't just go to the store and buy a baseball bag that came equipped with everything they would need for the game. No, they had to build it...slowly, as they played the game. They learned the things that they would need to make their game better. Some items came at the recommendation of a coach. Some came as a result of envying a fellow teammate. Some items would come as a gift, and some came by the avenue of hard work. Each bag was different and each player's game was a little different as well. Alone, one bag did not have the necessary tools to win the game, nor did one player. But together, we could get the job done. The "game" or challenge that our communities are now faced with is grief. It is a hard game. On Sunday, it threw a serious curve ball like none of us has ever seen or experienced. And though we may have suffered an "out", the game isn't over. How we will play the rest of the game will determine who the winner is. And how we play the game will be largely determined by what we have in our bag. Some of us have been playing the game for a long time, and we have things in our bag that not only benefit us, but can benefit the whole team. Some, although they may not have as much experience, have newer tools...and even though what we have is good, in many ways, what they have is an improvement on what we have in our bags. My point is this...and I hope I can adequately convey the mental picture that God gave me this morning...we need each other to get through this. What I've learned about this family in the days since this tragedy, is that Coach Crum and his wife didn't just want to "win" the game. They wanted to teach boys to be winners...not just on the field, but in life. They instilled values in these kids that would not just help them beat their weekly opponent...it would help them win. There is a difference.
Grief is an opponent that doesn't play fair. It strikes when you least expect it and it is relentless. It waits until you are at your weakest, and then it goes in for the kill. But you don't have to let grief win. Don't get me wrong...I am not saying that you shouldn't grieve this loss. You absolutely should. But how will you grieve? What's in your bag? Do you have what you need to win this game...and if not, who is around you that can you borrow from. Who is in the dugout with you who can help you through this game. Grief will tell you that there is no one...that is a lie. Don't believe it. Remember, I said grief doesn't play fair. Look around you, stay with the "team". And to the "team" I want to say, be on the lookout for those who may feel like they don't have what they need to get through this. Share your arsenal with them. To you, it may not seem like much, but to someone else it may be a lifeline. A hug. A kind word. A text. A phone call. A meal. A yard mowed. A game attended. You get the picture. Alone, we may not be able to heal the hurt...but together, as a team, we can!
I understand that Coach Crum often told his boys that he wanted them to give it 110%. To use everything at their disposal to win. That included their talents, time, energy, knowledge and so much more. Winning this new game will take giving it your all...and then some. And when you don't know where the "and then some" will come from, try asking God for it. You see, when what's in our bag is exhausted...God's bag is just getting started. He has everything we need to win this game. And His bag doesn't get old, doesn't exhaust, and is always available. His bag has hope. His bag has peace. His bag has clarity. His bag has love. And He is always, always, ALWAYS, willing (and ready) to share what's in His bag.
