When I was seven or eight years old my backyard seemed as large as Atlanta Stadium, plenty of space for an aspiring baseball player to hit magnificent home runs like Hank Aaron was doing at the time. The only problem was that my dad had asked me/told me not to hit home runs in the backyard because in reality there was only about twenty feet of outfield before the wall, which was the house, came into play.
But, one afternoon, I chose to ignore what I considered a silly request, and I hit a shot that was heard around the world! (Well, at least it was heard inside the kitchen since the ball shattered the window and landed in the sink.) No one was amused. It didn't take long for me to realize that it was one thing to shatter a window with one swing of the mighty bat, but quite another matter to shatter historic records like Hank. Today, guys with baseball skills are rated as four or five tool players. They possess power and speed, can hit for average, field with agility, and throw with accuracy--and even most of them don't make it! The only tool I had was an old rusty hammer that my dad gave me after I left it out in the rain. My dream was shattered. One of my favorite thinkers, authors, and teachers is Larry Crabb. When he began to formulate his vision for creating a School of Spiritual Direction he wrote, Shattered Dreams: God's Unexpected Pathway to Joy. I'm "stealing" his book title for my next series of messages at The Stone Church. My hope and prayer is that we will all be able to reframe our hurt and find meaning in the midst of our shattered dreams.
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