I'd pitch. The ball would go by him. Then he'd swing.
Over and over again.
In the twenty minutes of our front yard baseball game Paxton never once connected with the ball. Not once. Every time it rolled down the driveway he ran after it. Laughing and galloping all the way. His smile never faded.
He found joy in the process. Joy despite his repeated failure (in the worlds eyes...in my eyes). Joy.
As we were putting away the toys he turned to me with a big grin. Those baby blues were just sparkling. "Mom, did you see how good I'm getting at swinging?" "I sure did buddy. You're getting really good at swinging." "Yeah, maybe next time I'll hit the ball. That would be fun too."
In that moment my baby boy taught me a HUGE lesson.
Every time I pitched the ball, I had hoped and prayed he would hit it. That it would go somewhere off the tip of that blue plastic bat. And every time he chased it down the driveway I silently lamented his failure. Worrying about frustration or disappointment.
He never worried. He never got frustrated. He wasn't disappointed.
So often we spend time learning, preparing, gearing up for the big moment. That moment when we connect. When the crack of the bat echoes into the stands and we watch the ball head for the wall as we trot to first base. Looking for the home run on the horizon we miss the game we are playing.
What a sweet reminder to be present in our lives. To find the joy in "swinging practice", to look for laughter in the little moments, to share a smile and love along the way. Enjoy the moments of "failure" and know that next time you might succeed and "that would be fun too."