Cailyn was over yesterday, and after a trip
to the library with Nani she was obviously sleepy. She comes by that honestly, though. Trips to libraries and book stores have always
made Chris incredibly sleepy as well. I
don’t get sleepy. I get excited. Always have liked to be around books. The subject matter that thrills me has
changed over the years. As a kid I think
I read every book in the Rosenberg library that was even remotely related to
baseball. I was especially interested in
the old-timers and their personal stories.
You know, the goofy things they did in the dugout and how they were
raised. That’s how I was introduced to
the pro player who probably had the most influence on my life, albeit
indirectly. Billy Sunday. He was a drunk, but a really good baseball
player. One day he found himself in a
ditch listening to a band playing in a church.
He went inside, became a Christian, and was never the same. He started preaching and made a name for
himself for all the weird antics he would pull during sermons – like sliding
into the pulpit to illustrate that the only way to be safe with God is through
a personal relationship with Jesus. It
took me years to understand that concept and apply it to my own life, but Billy
Sunday planted the seed. The sermon that
actually grabbed my attention enough that I was forced to respond to it, began
with a story about Billy Sunday. And the
rest, as they say, is history. Well, my
history.
Wow, was that ever a digression from Cailyn
being sleepy. We did finally convince
her to take a break and let me read her new library books to her. I know that sounds like I’m a great Granddad
and all, but you have to understand.
Early afternoons are not the greatest of all times for me to be still
and quiet. That’s about the time the
second wave of my timed release rheumatoid arthritis pain medication
activates. If I slow down … I go
down. It is an even stranger feeling for
me because I can hear myself reading the wrong words, and sometimes even adding
words that make no sense, but I can’t really stop it. I am for all intents and purposes,
asleep. That’s what happened yesterday. Cailyn did her best to keep waking me up, and
Chris even tried to intervene and offered to finish the story. Cailyn would have none of that, however. She loves her DadDad, right? Either that or she gets a kick out of the strange
things he says when he’s trying to read and sleep at the same time. Cailyn finally suggested that we move from
the floor to our bed. Great move for
me. Not so much for her. I began to wake up again, but unfortunately,
she was beyond sleep by the time we settled in.
She tossed and turned for a few minutes, but it was hopeless. She finally rolled out of bed, turned to me
and announced, “My body is all shaped up now, DadDad. I’m all done with rest time.” And with that, off she frolicked.
Hmm.
Read any good books lately?
Psalms 86:5 says, “You are forgiving and good, O Lord, abounding in love to all who call
to you.”
Father, thank you for Billy Sunday and
books and … naps. Amen.
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