Saturday, October 20, 2007

Dear God,

I saw my daughter sitting on the bleachers, little 2 year old Lucy beside her. I had come to watch my seven year old granddaughter play basketball. Jill whispered to Lucy and she scanned the auditorium trying to find me. When she spotted me, she scooted down off the bench and took off running. Like the scene from the movie, "Vacation", when Chevy Chase and his family run across the long parking lot to Wally World, Lucy and I ran toward each other. When I caught sight of her twinkling eyes, I leaned downward and scooped her up into my arms. With a jammed finger (her little body ran in to my right hand ring finger) I twirled her around as she clung to my neck. All of a sudden some of the pew sitters started clapping.

When Gabrielle saw me (she didn’t know I was coming) she too ran over and I gave her a big hug and kiss before the game. I held Lucy on my lap (when she was content to be there) and I explained the game to her. (Funny, isn’t it, what do I know about playing basketball?)

Let’s see, there are five players on each team. (Good so far) There is a referee who blows a whistle and takes away the ball, then gives it back. There is a basketball goal on each side of the half court. One team competes against each other to try to get the most goals. Everybody keeps their hands up like a command from a sheriff and posse who shouts, “Put your hands up.” They dribble the ball (that means they bounce it) and then they pass it to another team member. When they get close to the goal, they start throwing the ball upward to try to get the round ball in the hoop. When it happens, everybody claps.

While holding my granddaughter on my lap and encouraging my other granddaughter on the floor, I noticed something. When one of the girls swooped a ball into goal, they always looked out into the crowd to find someone who had brought them. Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa, Sister…I watched as the girl found the loved one who must have smiled at them because a big smile spread across her face again and again. Tall girls, short girls, black headed girls. Blonde. This happened over and over again.

That made me think. When I score a point (meaning when I do something right and good,) you smile at me and I smile back. I look around and find you there beaming at me. I feel connected, affirmed, supported, loved. I know you are there. I’m not in the game alone. And I like that.

I told Lucy to clap each time a shot made it into the basket. She would put her little hands together and clap, smiling at the girls. And then she looked at me. I smiled at her.

Seems to me this team thing is a good thing. Everybody wins because everybody’s connected to everyone else. Smiles abound. And even when someone misses, there's still an affirming face connecting with the girl.

I couldn’t see behind me (only my children think I have eyes in the back of my head) but I think there were a lot of happy moms and dads, sisters and brothers, grandmas and grandpas. I think we may have been the face of God to each other. Even people who walked in carrying a burden seemed to be lifted.

Gabrielle’s team won, but no matter. They just play for fun. Everybody seems to win. A smile, a hug, a kiss, a “good job” or “you can do it!”

It was wonderful looking at you and having you smile right back.

Loving God,
in a gymnasium
filled with little girls
or a parking lot,
you are present
with your
extra bag of goodies.
You bring joy
and a special vessel
to sprinkle it 'round.
Lucy, Gabrielle, Jill, Matt, and Rylan,
and a whole gym
full of family.
God in the middle.

Love, Andrea