When I was growing up, I couldn’t wait until the day I made it to the seventh grade. Seventh grade was the year in which football was first offered in my hometown and I longed to play football.

It wasn’t until about twenty minutes into our first practice that I realized I suffered from “3S” … I was skinny, slow and scared! For those of you who aren’t familiar with football, this is a combination that does not make for a good player. More often than not, it makes for someone who spends more time as a tackling dummy than anything else.

I’ll never forget the day that I finally got to play in a real game as a member of the kickoff team.

Last summer a friend of mine was staying with us for a week in order to get some work done and one of the things we did during his visit for “recreation” was play wiffle ball.

Well, one evening we were out there playing and it got dark. It was so dark during my last at bat, that I honestly couldn’t see the ball at all.

Well, my friend was up by three runs on me, it was the bottom of the 9th inning, the bases were loaded, there were two outs and I had two strikes on me.

Last fall, we drove to Niagara Falls during our vacation. I had always heard that it was a beautiful sight, but in the back of my mind I kept thinking, “It’s a waterfall – what’s the big deal?”

When we got there, I was in awe. What I saw just took my breath away. No picture or video or words can describe the beauty of God’s creation. If you haven’t been there, I can’t explain it … especially the scenery from the tour boat that drives you so near the bottom of the falls that you must wear a raincoat because of all of the spraying water that hits you.

It’s easy to cheer when you’re in the “home team’s stands”. The real measure of your devotion comes when you’re in the enemies’ camp.

Several months ago, the high school basketball team from the town in which we attend church, made it to the state finals. We excitedly made the two and a half hour trip to the State Capital to watch the championship game.

When we arrived, we didn’t know which side of the stadium we were supposed to sit on to support our team.

It was shortly after tip-off that we realized we were surrounded by fans from the opposing team.

I’ll never forget the morning when God used a carton of chocolate milk to teach me about being a good steward.

Yes, a carton of chocolate milk.

It was a bright summer morning and my friend Phillip and I were set to play tennis as we had gotten into the habit of doing on most days.

Phillip dropped by my house that morning to pick me up for the quick drive to the courts in our hometown.

On this particular day, Phillip had purchased a carton of chocolate milk for his breakfast. (Yeah, I know, it’s not the healthiest of breakfasts, but we figured we’d work it off playing tennis.

During a visit to Cape Cod we took a 40 minute ferry ride out to the Martha’s Vineyard island. And let me tell you … what a spectacular view!

Shoreland in brilliant fall colors. Sailboats gliding across the water. Lighthouses dotting the beaches. Seagulls floating effortlessly through the salty air. In a word, picturesque.

My wife and I just took it all in and enjoyed the moment.

And even though it was a beautiful sight to behold, guess what our 4-year old boy, Jacob, was doing?

When I was a freshman in high school, I picked up a tennis racket for the first time.

Three friends and I formed the tennis team at our school and we embarked on what would become a four-year trek together that left us with a flood of wonderful memories.

Wonderful memories – except for the district tournament during that first year.

You see, none of us really knew how to play tennis. And that was all fine when we played each other, but when we met up against other teams from other schools that were comprised of players who had been playing tennis for years, that was a different story.

My dad has always been my biggest fan. As a youngster, I excelled in sports…and my dad was always an active part of my athletics.

Early on, I played a lot of baseball. Summer after summer my dad would load up our truck and cart half of my team to our games. Home games, away games, regular games, all-star games, tournament games – my dad was at all of them.

He was always there, in the stands, cheering on his son, proud as he could be of me…whether I made that game-winning unbelievable catch in the tournament game or I struck out with the bases loaded. I was his son and he was proud of me.

Several weeks ago my wife and I, along with our little boy Jacob, were checking into a hotel when we spotted some complimentary cookies in a basket in the hotel lobby.

Now, Jacob loves cookies. (He gets that from me, I suppose And a cookie sure sounded good at that particular moment in time. (When doesn’t it?!)

And those cookies looked good lying there in that basket.

A moment later, we were chomping on a couple of those cookies, and, let me tell you, they sure tasted good as well!

Then, less than fifteen minutes later, it happened.

What a great way to spend some time.

With an active four-year-old boy always wanting to “go, go, go”, it becomes necessary to find ways to harness and refocus his energy.

Never is this more obvious than when we are “waiting” somewhere. Whether it’s waiting for a table at a restaurant, waiting in a checkout line or waiting in traffic, it’s important to keep him busy without letting him bounce around all over the place like Tigger from Winnie The Pooh!

So, we started revisiting some of the games we used to play when WE were kids. Games like “I Spy”.