A boy and his bat. (And the man behind it.)

Landon started t-ball for the first time this spring and he’s doing a great job.  I’ve had several parents and coaches come up and tell us how great his swing is, or they’re impressed with how well he throws and catches. And I sure am proud of this boy.


But he’s not the only boy who worked hard on those skills.

Behind that swing, is a daddy whose spend no less than 200 hours in the backyard over the past two years tossing wiffle balls to his 4 year old (at the time) son.  A daddy who oiled a new glove and taught him how to cock his arm to throw.  A daddy who chased down foul balls and fetched balls out of bushes.  A daddy who wiped tears from a little boy who got frustrated (or hit by a pitch!). A daddy who wouldn’t let him quit after a few bad attempts because he was teaching him how to work through adversity.

I’m so thankful for the daddy that’s raising my boys. I love that he’s an encourager. He’s patient. He shows them how much he cares about them with the quality time he spends with them.  And they adore him.

And I am infinitely proud of this kid, whether he’s got the skills or not, because I see him try his best every practice. He takes the critiques and puts them to work because he wants to be better.

I love seeing the true joy in his eyes when his daddy is out back tossing balls to him. And the smile on his face when he gets a hit in a game.


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