My 10-year-old eyes stayed locked on the 11-year-old pitcher. I felt a courage rise within me that I knew would lead to victory. The bases were loaded, and the smallest person on the team was up to bat. The pitcher wound up and let go a high speed, ultrasonic fastball. I was sure it was doing all of 150 mph. (Well, that’s the way I like to tell it. However, as most 10-year-old boys, we tend to exaggerate things.) As the ball was traveling toward me, I shifted my right shoulder back in anticipation of a clean hit that would put the ball right over the center fielder’s head. It would guarantee me a double, mainly because I knew I could run fast enough, and then give us the two runs that would cement our victory. I was in mid-swing when at the last second the ball curved. It zigged and I zagged. Because of my anticipation, I over-swung and exposed my right tricep to a ball traveling at supersonic speed. It struck my tricep so hard that it shook my entire body. I heard the people in the stands do a collective “ooohhh.”

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“Well, I at least got us a run by taking my walk.” I began to walk to first base and the pain in my arm started to manifest and alert me to its existence. The pain got more intense the closer I got to first base.

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My teammate who had been on first base when I was up to bat got to there the same way I did: the pitcher hit him with the ball. The boy had immediately started crying. When that happened, I blurted out to my coach, “If that happened to me, I would just laugh,” thinking that his misfortune was an opportunity to exalt myself in my coach’s eyes.

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In his wisdom, he turned and looked down at me. “Goodwin, you’re up!”

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“WHAT? I’m not supposed to be up. Jones is already in the batter’s box,” I said to myself. But, without hesitation, I grabbed a bat and walked to the batter’s box, passing an irritated Jones along the way. The whole “win at all costs” scenario I had just explained played out in my head.

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Once I arrived at first base, my coach ran over to ask me why I wasn’t laughing.

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“Well, coach, I’ll tell you exactly why I am not laughing. That 150 mile per hour, supersonic fast/curveball hit my arm, and I’m sure it is broken. Now, you’re going to have to take me to the emergency room where they’ll have to put it in a cast, or maybe they will have to cut it off. Now your best player will be out for the rest of the season, thus not allowing us to win the championship. How is that for an explanation, COACH?”

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However, in reality, I simply looked up at my coach and forced a shallow, crooked smile and a weak “ha ha.” 

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I can remember thinking to myself in that moment, “What now?” What was I going to do with the arrogance I had blurted out to my coach? All within earshot of my teammates, too. I didn’t know if I could go on. The next two batters got up—one struck out and the other one got a double, enabling me to run to third base.

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By the time I got to third base, the pain in my arm was unbearable. I looked at my third base coach and said with tears of pain in my eyes, “Coach, I think I need to come out.” He called time out and replaced me with another runner. My dad came over to collect me with all my arrogance, pride, and humiliation and drove to the emergency room, where I am happy to report that I only had a bruised bone. 

 

The lesson I learned that day was that life is going to throw you “curveballs”. It’s not if, but when. Life isn’t fair. A friend and colleague in ministry, Brent Wale, said a few years ago, “Fair went out in the Garden.” That’s true. We, as humans, did not receive what we should have for what happened in the Garden. Instead, God in His mercy and kindness devised another plan that would eventually get us back to the Garden. In fact, we got a better deal. Now, the third person of the Godhead, the Holy Spirit, can reign and live inside of us. We can have constant communicate with Him and He with us, providing us with the wisdom and insight to navigate life’s curveballs that come impetuously and most certainly. 

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If you’re not going through a curveball moment right now, get ready. You will. You might think that is not a very positive thing to say and that scripture tells us to ‘call things that are not as though they were.’ Rich Delgado, the Groups and New Believer Coordinator at Resurrection Life, quoted a character from one of the Star Wars movies: “If only saying it would make it happen.” Yes, yes, and yes. I wish that were true. However, we all know that it’s not. Bad things happen. Bad things happen to good people, not to harm them or make their life unpleasant. No, things just happen. I believe we give Satan more credit than he is due. Some things that we blame on him are nothing more than life happening. We are reaping what we sowed, or we’re collateral damage from other people’s lives and decisions. That could be good or bad.

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When life throws you a curveball, what are you going to do? Do you have a plan? Who do you run to? Who do you depend on? Your own wisdom and intellect? ChatGPT, Gemini, CoPilot, and their collective information? Your mom and dad? Your wife or husband?

If you’re like most people in the world, they first look to their own understanding, their own wisdom, and their own ability to make decisions. Unfortunately, our own wisdom and intellect is usually what got us in the predicament in the first place. Many people will come to my office for counseling or guidance and eventually the conversation will come back around to them trying to figure out everything that’s going on in their life by themselves. I respond by making a simple statement. It may come off as offensive, but that is not the intent. I say, “Your best decisions and best choices have brought you to my office today. It might be best to listen.” You might also think that statement is more arrogant than offensive. Either way, it is the truth. That is why I surround myself with people that I love, people who love me, and my family. They will be there for me when life throws a curveball, and vice versa. We can be there for each other in the “What Now?” moments.

 

Years ago, a movie titled Minority Report (2002) starring Tom Cruise got me thinking about how I could pre-decide on some things that I know will eventually happen. The movie was about these three beings called “Pre-cogs” who could see into the future and what future crimes people would eventually commit. When the time comes close for the people to commit the crime, they send a “minority report” to Law Enforcement to arrest them so that they could keep society safe. Now, I’m not saying we should try to prevent bad things from happening. Though, I don’t like when bad things happen. I’m saying that bad things just happen. In order to be prepared, could we not put forth some thought and prayer about the future? That is what pre-deciding is all about. Yet, we don’t decide using our own understanding and wisdom.

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King Solomon, the second King of Israel, said over 3,000 years ago that we are to “trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not unto your own understanding. But in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your path.” James, the half-brother of Jesus, wrote that “if any man lacks wisdom, let him ask of God who gives to all men liberally.” That’s a pretty good plan when life throws you a curveball. You don’t “bob and weave”, but instead “trust and ask”. Talk to God. He is willing and able to listen.