Into My Hands

It came to me. Of all the people in the stadium that day, the foul ball had found its way into my hands.

As an 8-year-old, Baltimore Orioles baseball fan, fewer things would make me happier. The smoky-barbecue air filled my lungs while I caressed the soft red stitching as it snaked across the bleached leather. I marveled with pride at the beauty and quality of the major league baseball.

I knew that thousands of these balls careened into the stands every year, but this one was different; this one was mine.

School couldn’t have come sooner the next day. I must have stuffed that ball into my backpack every day for a month. I had an aura of pride and joy, and a desire to tell classmates and teachers alike of how I got it. Yet as I’m reminded of this memory, I am humbled by my own excitement.

How much greater is the love of Jesus Christ than that little baseball, and why do I lack the same overwhelming passion to tell people about it?

“For we are a fragrance of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing” (2 Corinthians 2:15). God has given us the ultimate gift, one that we are to tell others about just as passionately as I did when I first caught that foul ball. As I continually embrace the treasure of Christ, I’m encouraged to step out like a child and tell everyone about the amazing gift of our Savior, Jesus.