Atlanta Braves, baseball

I’m headed to Atlanta Sunday for a day trip Braves game with Joel and each of our sons and our nephew Chris. We are all excited.

Well, maybe not Will.

He’s only 7 and doesn’t care a flipping fly ball about baseball. Nor long drives. Nor being outside. Nor the heat.

It’s not shaping up to be his day.

But I’m making him go. Not because I’m mean and cruel. I may be, but that’s not the reason why. As his father, I know that he will love the overall experience and never forget it. This will be a lifetime memory.

I’ve forced my kids into several things that they were mad at me about…initially, but ended up loving me all the more for it.

Think Tao kwon do, Shelby.

Volleyball for you, Keely.

Now it’s Will’s turn.

I’ve learned this approach from God. He has often pushed me outside my comfort zone in spite of my kicking and screaming. But it’s always been for my good.

Forgive someone that I’d rather punch in the face.

Pray for someone when it’s easier to write them off.

Say yes to serve when I’d rather sleep late.

Give even though it makes more sense to save.

Go when I planned to stay a little longer.

God is a much better father than me. He guides me to better decisions, but I still get to choose.

My kids not so much.

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