What's Your Red Ball?

My grandson spent the night with me last night. He has been spending a lot of time with me now that school is out for the summer, and I have to say—I relish that. He is a witty little thing, just like his mamma. I’m gleefully delighted she’s getting paid back for every sassy comment she made to me. Revenge is a dish best served cold…

Anyway, I digress….my grandson and I have a tradition, We play a game called kitchen basketball. Kitchen basketball is a game played with a little red ball and a plastic basket. It involves me sitting in a chair, my grandson throwing the ball and me trying to catch it with the basket. Sometimes it’s a simple game of HORSE. Sometimes we play one-on-one. Sometimes we just play catch. But it all revolves around that little red ball.

The little red ball is nothing special. In fact, it’s a rather mundane, spongy stress balll—the kind you have in your desk at work and squeeze the life out of when your coworker calls in sick one.more.time. But that little red ball has brought us countless hours of enjoyment. Gabe lives for those moments when I whisper in my best cage fighter voice, “Come on, boy.”

As he has gotten older, the games of kitchen basketball have given way to light sabers and card games. Tablets and videos. Movies and mayhem. But today, he said something to me that showed me what an impact those silly kitchen games had on him. He said, “Grammie, when you die, I’m gonna put one of those red balls in your coffin.”

While I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of him slipping that red ball into my coffin like some sort of creepy Dracula, I was absolutely thrilled with the idea that those kitchen basketball games WOULD be remembered. In that one little sentence, he reassured me that I wouldn’t be forgotten. He would hunt down one of those balls, many, many, MANY, years from now, I hope, and he would tenderly place that in my coffin. And in doing so, he would remember. He would remember the laughter, the tantrums, the exhilaration, the high fives, the dejection. In short, he would remember the best version of me that I could give him.

So my question today to ponder is: What’s your red ball? What is the one legacy you will leave behind when you leave this world? What will you be remembered for? These are questions that we think about more and more often as we get older. Ultimately, the greatest legacy we can hope to leave is pointing others to Jesus, emulating Him, being salt and light, loving others, helping others, being kind, joyful, good, patient, honest souls. And kitchen basketball doesn’t hurt…

God bless!