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How the 2019 Washington Nationals Made Us Believe

On May 24th, the Washington Nationals are 19-31, twelve games below .500. They are no hits, no runs and all errors. With injuries piling up as fast as losses, I confess, there were several evenings I just had to turn the game off because I couldn’t watch the bullpen implode one more time: self-flagellation’s not my style.

Yet, the very next day I would turn the game on again. Come on, Nats! Every game’s a new game! New pitchers. New field. 0-0 score. Let’s go!

But really? Did I ever give a second’s thought to this team making a run into the post season? Hardly. A moment of consideration to a run through post season? Not a chance. WIN the World Series? Come on, man, whatchu smokin’? These are the Washington Nationals, we’re talking about. Full of talent that takes us to highest precipice, where the air is thin and the view is fine, just in time to let us fall with a thud that reverberates throughout the region.

I thought it was just me who was icing my bruises from seasons past until a random fly-by interaction in the grocery store, specifically in the produce section, near the bananas. The guy pushing his cart toward me was sporting a Nats hat and, as the team’s fortune of late had taken a decidedly upward turn, I hazarded a, “How ‘bout those Nats?” Expecting a fist bump or at least a thumbs up, I got an eye roll instead. “Plenty of time for them to let us down again,” the man said, rolling past the bananas.

Funny to sport a hat from the team you expect to disappoint you, I thought. Yet, I had to admit that Banana Man’s logic felt familiar. He reminded me how this team had dashed our hopes in many seasons past; jeez, not only dashed, they had stomped them and mashed them into the ground just to be sure they were extinguished. Why should this year be any different?

Ironically, I had made it all the way to August without letting that thought slip in, mostly because the Nats early season performance had been so pitiful there weren’t many highs to fall from. But, in the span of a produce-section moment, there it was suspended in mid-air. Don’t let your heart hope; these guys will only break it. I felt so sad for Banana Man and the duplicitous me, then. I mean, not only did this mindset defy post season possibility, it put a pall on today’s good play. Not only did it rob tomorrow of its hope, it stole today’s joy.

So, thank you Banana Man, keeper of dark times past, you stood me up straight right there in the Publix produce. How often do I fail to celebrate the genuine good of the day in order to protect myself from the worse that may lurk around the bend? How easy it is to listen to the voice that says, Don’t get too giddy because it can’t last. Don’t be too proud because someone’s better. Don’t risk believing because it’ll make a fool of you … That’s its slippery mantra, the commentary it seems to insert into every genuinely hopeful notion.

Funny thing, though. In spite of the doubt, nay-saying and my occasional faltering fandom, the Nats kept up their winning ways. They moved on up the standings, overtaking their nearest competitors and, against all odds, landed themselves a Wild Card spot in the post season.

Hope was alive! — although holding on by its teeth. Defying the odds-makers who had them as underdogs in every contest, this team scraped up runs where there were none in every winner-take-all-loser-go-home contest, almost as if there was some divine intervention involved.

Game by game, those Nats made a believer out of me, though I cannot say I held doubt at bay. Nope, it lolled and lingered into the late innings most evenings, requiring me to distract myself with Sudoku puzzles to quell the apprehension. Blessedly, I got a brief respite from the tension in the league series against the St Louis Cardinals, so I could shore up to endure the wild mood swings ahead in the seven games against the Astros. “Dare we hope?” I texted a fellow fan. It all felt like a good dream I didn’t want to wake up from.

But wake up we did, and those Nats were still World Series Champions. The team that had been buried under doubt in the spring found resurrection in October. So here I stand before the greatest upset, the greatest comeback(s), the greatest lovefest, the greatest postseason, and perhaps the greatest World Series win of all time, with a handful of clichés and a heart full of memories. How much this team taught us. Heck, how many pep talks can we adopt from this team?! They just roll …

  • If you stay in the fight, you’ll give yourself a chance to win it.
  • As long as you’ve got a swing, the game’s not over.
  • Improbable is not impossible.
  • When you’re in a slump, nothing picks you up better than a kid’s song.
  • Get ‘em on, get ‘em over, get em in.
  • Go 1-0 today. Then go 1-0 tomorrow.
  • The weight on my shoulders is way lighter distributed 25 ways.
  • Let the bad call go so you can put the next pitch into the bleachers.
  • Guts alone are rarely enough, but sometimes they’re just enough.
  • Dance like there’s no one watching, even on national tv.
  • Sometimes bumpy roads do lead to beautiful places.

But the one thing the 2019 Washington Nationals taught me comes as a confession, courtesy of Banana Man. I had my doubts, all the way to Game 7 of the World Series, but that doesn’t make me an unbeliever. Belief leaves room for doubt; it just doesn’t rent it a room. Hardships, losses, strikeouts, blow ups, injuries and the doubt that arrives with them … this season would have been nothing without watching — no living — those first. Those formed the stairway we climbed together all the way to wake up day.

Yesterday’s doubts are what makes today’s belief real.

On the morning of game 7, with the series tied at 3-3, (and the scheduled starter, the ace pitcher, newly emerged from a neck brace!) I found it really tempting to say, “You know, whatever happens tonight, it’s been a great season.” (which it certainly had!) But no championship team has ever uttered those words before taking the field for a deciding game. Me and my Cracker Jacks, we were All In.

Believe in what you’re doing today. Go ahead, go 1-0. (Thank you, Davey Martinez.) There will be plenty of time to be sad if you lose. Don’t let that expectation steal today’s joy. Today is the day you can do something about.

Nats, they had you down, but not out. They had you depleted, but not defeated. They had you on the ropes, but not without hopes. That’s when you flipped the script, and hoisted us doubters into the believer seats way up above the clouds where the air is rare and the view is oh, so fine. It may be a long way down, but somewhere along this rickety, risky, scrabbly climb with you through the 2019 season I seem to have lost my fear of heights.

Now I can go bananas!

Lord, I believe but…

IMG_1955Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief! Perhaps the most honest words ever uttered.

I want to believe completely. I want to be certain. But certain would mean that I have absolutely no doubt. None at all. Nada. But the truth is, I do have doubt — at least a little doubt — daily.

I mean, what can we really know for sure these days? Even when there’s overwhelming evidence — eye witnesses, testimonials, on-the scene reporting, and confirmation by multiple sources — someone will inject a tidbit of information (is it dis-information?) which calls it all into question. Suddenly, I’m beating back the doubt that creeps in under the door I slammed shut and thought I had securely sealed.

How do I know who to trust or what to believe? I ask myself because, after all, this is really a personal matter. That’s when a voice from long ago rings in my ears. Mom prepared me for moments like these. When I found something hard to believe or when words directed at me felt hurtful, rude or unkind, she’d say, “Consider the source.”

Consider the source. From whom do the words come? What do their actions tell you about what they say? Mom didn’t tell me who to doubt or who to believe. She offered me a gift of much more value: she taught me to how to perform the trust test. Got doubts? Consider, not just what they say, but what they do, which shows you who they really are. Don’t just take them at face value.

Now God I could take at face value, but as I have not seen God face to face, and since God told Moses “you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live,” (Exodus 33:20) I’m thinking life is going to have some doubtables. I am expecting there will be plenty of opportunities for my very human self to consider the source and still be left with uncertainty. Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief!

Can I hold on to belief AND doubt and still live?! I mean, holding two apparently contradictory things together without resolution is exhausting! The more you bring them together, the more they repel one another. Here, take Matter and Anti-Matter and see if you can get them to talk things out.

Some days, belief and doubt feel very much like matter and anti-matter. I can’t even bring them into shouting distance without risking blowing myself up. How can I possibly hold onto two completely competing realities and live?

Yet, sometimes the hardest questions have the simplest answers.

Wayne, a man of deep and abiding faith in God, showed me this as he shared the story of his last moments with Jane, his beloved wife of fifty-one years. * She had nearly reached the end of her brave battle with cancer, and, knowing that time was short, Wayne sat by her bedside reading silently from  Acts Chapter 2 . “Just as I looked up, Jane passed from this life.” he said. “In that moment, I felt both the deepest sadness and the greatest joy.”

The  deepest sadness and the greatest joy, I thought. What could be more opposite; yet, what could be more true?  Two competing emotions in the same place, at the same time. No overlap. No dilution. Full force. Mighty power.

 ‘In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
    and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
    and your old men shall dream dreams.
18 Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
    in those days I will pour out my Spirit;
        and they shall prophesy.
19 And I will show portents in the heaven above
    and signs on the earth below,
        blood, and fire, and smoky mist.
20 The sun shall be turned to darkness
    and the moon to blood,
        before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.
21 Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ ~ Acts 2:17-21 

What a mighty wind of hope even in the deepest despair. Sadness and Joy, Heaven and Earth… Somehow, belief builds a bridge.

So, as I dive deep into my days where conflicting opinions, different understandings, and sometimes even belief and doubt both compete for my allegiance, I am buoyed by the story of this couple, the faith they shared, and the moment that will linger between them until they meet again.

If…

they meet again. God knows that this tiny little “if “occasionally arises in my very human mind because I don’t understand how two people can be reunited in heaven after both have become the dust of the ground. So, I’m left to consider the source.

Who could have scripted a moment like this? Who could have invoked such words? such thoughts? such emotions? Where has humanity witnessed such a moment? a moment where Great Joy met Deep Sadness and turned tears of despair into shouts of joy?

Could it be that such a source is doing it still?

Every time I admit my doubt to God, He injects a tiny glimmer of consider this that I could never have imagined and thus invites belief to take its proper place again. God doesn’t expect us to be doubtless, just faithful.

*Wayne has kindly and generously offered his permission to share his story here.

Without Doubt

photo 3 (2)-011I will.
What powerful words.
A promise, an intention, a commitment.
If I say I will do it, I will.

I am reluctant to say this to God.
‘I will follow you all the days of my life.’
Because I know I won’t.
I will trip and fall.
I will stumble or swerve or slam on the breaks.
I will not follow, so let me not say so.

But what if I did say so?
Would that not be arrogant and proud?
As if I knew I was a special one,
Selected from among the many,
Singled out for my…my what?
Exactly.

You’re no more special than the other, my dear.
Come, simply at my request,
Come willingly, but without reservation.
Say you will, knowing fully that you won’t.
That is the price —
which I have paid.

And in that instant, the ground under my feet is firm.
Of course, I say.
I see it now, I say.
How could I have doubted?

The very thought!
Oh my God!
I have ushered in my own demise.

The ground begins to crumble and my balance gives way.
My arms grapple with the air,
But there it no holding, no grasping, no righting.
Only tumbling, falling, twisting, turning,
confusion, chaos, peril, and fear,
until, blessedly,
landing.

I knew it was too good to be true.
Yet, it is true.
I saw it, I felt it, I was there.
Briefly, ever so briefly.
Were it not for my doubt,
Oh doubt, will I ever be rid of you?

I brush myself off
and attend to my scrapes and bruises –
No gashes, no stitches, no broken bones.
I seem to have survived the fall.

That is why I came.
Falling is part of believing,
It draws us closer.

What can you possibly want with someone like me?

You are free to go.

Where should I go?

You can come with me.

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