It’s no secret that baseball is one of my favorite sports, and I mean all baseball – majors, minors and of course this baseball mama loves the peewee league. While I love my Atlanta Braves, my last few outings have been spent cheering on the Gwinnett Braves, a minor league team just a few miles away from my home. Each season I’m excited when one of our Gwinnett Braves gets called up to the Atlanta Braves or when we (the Gwinnett Braves) get to host an Atlanta Brave out of a slump when his performance slips. Everyone packs the stands to see the major league player working out with the farm team.
If you watch minor league players in action, there’s not much difference between their uniforms, their warm-ups or tenacity during the game. In fact, other than the lettering on the front, they look just alike. The only difference is the stadium is smaller, along with the pay and perks; however, their work ethic is the same if not a bit more. They are working with one goal in mind, to get to the big show. Isn’t that the same for us in life? Those of us working toward our destiny are grinding hard in the minor leagues. The stage is smaller, the pay may not be as much, and our efforts aren’t making national news. Oh, but we’re working harder than a one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest to get to our purpose or what we know we’re called to do in this world. The smaller stage doesn’t mean we work according to the setting. In fact, we’re working harder to get noticed and called up to the majors. Some call it paying your dues, others call it iron sharpening time, but no matter how you define it, it’s merely a season. Some of us spend short seasons on the proving grounds while others may toil for years before their dreams come true. And unfortunately, some will give up when the big leagues take longer to call than they think they should.
I believe I’m in a minor league season right now, caught in the grips of the grind to fulfill my purpose. It requires more of me, stretches me beyond my comfort zone and exposes my vulnerability. I can say this is one of the most uncomfortable seasons I’ve experienced, and I love every gut-wrenching, bite-your-nail, clutch-your-pearls moment. I’m uneasy, anxious and off balance at times. I have no clue what’s going to happen, and this Type A girl needs to know before the know. I’m wired that way, and now all my wires are tangled. These moments reveal to me that I’m being prepped for something bigger than I can even imagine. That’s what makes the minor leagues so beautiful, they coach you up for the majors. Even if you make it to the big leagues and get sent back to the minors for a while, you’re able to handle it because you’ve been here and got a t-shirt or a jersey for it.
To my fellow minor league players, stay in the game. Your destiny may be one phone call, one conversation or one chance meeting away from where you’re called to be. I say this to myself several times a week, sometimes in a day. When I’m not self-motivating, I’m encouraging others who’ve trusted me enough to share their dreams with me. I look forward to seeing you in the major leagues, my friends. Until then, enjoy every inning of your season.