Playing ball with God | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Playing ball with God | Previous Challenge Entry
By Mike Phelps
06/12/14
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Playing ball with God.

There were no parades or parties when Thomas came home, only anguish. He had been a good soldier. He had been a good Christian. He just wanted his leg back, his life back. It had been over a year since that day. The day the IED slammed him into the roof of the humvee. Fire engulfed the cab. He alone survived. Would to God he had died that day, he thought.

The Sunday before he left for Afghanistan, his church prayed with him at the altar. Brother Jimmy laid hands on him. He could still hear the prayer. “Lord God of heaven, please by your mercy and grace bring Tom back home safe to Rachel and his baby girl”. But now when Thomas prays, it comes out angry, empty. He had only gone back to church a couple of times since his release from the hospital. He was certain church people meant well. The looks and comments were kind, but they were disconnected to how he felt. Rehabilitation was teaching him to walk again, but not to cope. And guilt, there was no escape from guilt. He had taken lives. Duty is what they called it. He wasn’t ready to fit in, to belong.

“Tom, can you take Gretchen to the park this morning”?
He just stared out the kitchen window.
“Tom, did you hear what I said,” Rachel asked?
“There’s nothing wrong with my hearing”, he sniped.
“Yea, sure, I’m… I’m sorry. I’m just struggling”.
“We love you. You know that don’t you”?
“I love you too, Daddy,” Gretchen piped from inside the doorway.
“Even God loves you,” Gretchen added.
“God loves everybody,” Tom said. Although at this moment he didn’t believe it.

The walk to the park was short but painful. It was a good thing Gretchen’s steps were small. At four she was caring and patient. Tom hoped she stayed that way her entire life. Tom suspected Rachel had asked him to go to the park for his benefit more than Gretchen’s.

At the park Gretchen found playmates to swing with, their mothers keeping watch from the other side of the play area. Tom was alone on the bench. He liked it that way. He could hear a dull thud of a boy bouncing a ball against the building off to his side. He tried to tone it out.
Tom didn’t notice Gretchen slip beside him on the bench. He was too alone in his thoughts. He whispered his prayer. It echoed in his head.

“Oh God,” he paused. “God, why do I feel so alone? Help me to be the father you want me to be. I want to be a better husband. I want a job. No one wants me now, not like this. No one wants a cripple, a killer. God, I feel like you’ve slammed me against the wall. Help me come back to you.”
Tom didn’t feel the little hand resting on his shoulder until he felt Gretchen’s lips touch his ear.

“It’ll be ok Daddy. When I throw my ball at the wall it always comes back to me.”
Out of the mouth of babes, He thought. He hugged his girl and whispered, “Thank you.”

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