Making Baskets

I watched Bobby make his first basket yesterday and clapped, yelling out “Way to go, Bobby” grinning from ear to ear as if I were the one who made a basket.

We were at his Special Olympics basketball practice and, while Bobby had specifically figured out HOW to get that ball into the basket earlier this week, this was my first chance to witness this amazing feat. Amazing, because it’s taken him a LONG time to do that. The fact is, we don’t know how much he can see outside his 2-3 foot main field of vision, because Bobby is legally blind.

So, seeing him make that basket was like a bit of a miracle for me – and there were definitely tears in my eyes as a grin stole across my face.

But he had made baskets earlier this week – Jim took Bobby and Andy to the YMCA a few days before and was thrilled with how far Bobby and Andy both had come in their skills – and he was just as proud then as he described to me the wonderful sight of Bobby actually making a basket.

The Admission … At first I didn’t Hear Him

When Bobby came home talking about making baskets at school that day I wasn’t paying attention. I was so busy, you see, that I didn’t actually hear how proud he was or understand the infliction of pride in his voice.

In fact, I was trying to figure out when they started basket-weaving at school, with a small frown on my face, when I realized what he was actually saying a couple minutes later. Hey, at least I did figure it out!

But I confess, honestly, I was too busy trying to finish some project at the time, because I was busy! And I almost missed the importance of Bobby’s big announcement. I almost didn’t hear him.

And by default I almost didn’t hear Him. You know, the head honcho, the big guy upstairs … Him.

He was busy screaming at me to Stop! Listen! Engage! Be a mom! Be proud! Be THERE. See the gift He gave us.

Because I know all good things come from Him – just as I know that Bobby making a basket, or a dozen baskets, or fifty of them … him making baskets isn’t about getting that ball into the basket. Oh, to Bobby right at that moment it is. But really, each of those baskets are small moments representing the whole.

A life well-lived. A life filled with wonder and excitement, a little innocence. A life that is a blessing.

No, to me, Bobby making baskets is about understanding that all things truly ARE possible if you believe; it’s about recognizing that my kid can see well enough how to really enjoy life enthusiastically.

It’s not easy to remember God sometimes … in the midst of rushed meetings, family dinners, fast food dinners, sports, lessons, school, work … in the midst of LIFE, we sometimes forget that our families are gifts from Him, our time spent with our kids and spouses something to cherish. To remember. To hold dear.

Making baskets. It turns out that it’s a really big deal. And not just for putting the ball in the basket.

Because life is lived in the small moments.