Today is Willie Mays’s birthday, one of the greatest to ever play the game of baseball, if you’re not familiar, and it brings up a whole bundle of memories of my late brother. He loved baseball, and he loved Willie Mays. And somehow, that love translated into time spent with me – his kid brother by six years.
He taught me a dice baseball game, and we’d sit for hours rolling those little cubes like they were the whole world. He always took Mays’s team, the Giants. I always took the Orioles. And even though we grew up in Michigan, neither of us were Tiger fans.
But as I sat with those memories this morning, I was engulfed in a wave of thankfulness when I realized afresh that the Lord had His eyes on me back then too. He was the silent, unseen audience in all those moments – but not just a spectator. He was loving me, providing for me, and protecting me – even in moments that could have easily ended my life.
In the truest sense, just as the Scripture says, I love Him now because He first loved me then (1 John 4:19). And even before “then,” He loved me, when He gave His life so that two thousand years later, I could be united with Him.
Right now, I’m drinking my coffee from a commemorative Willie Mays mug my daughter gave me. And as I hold it, I’m savoring the love that’s carried me to this place – the love of a brother, the love of a daughter, and above all, the faithful love of the Lord who’s been with me every step of the way and will be for all the days I’ve got left.
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