The Power of Being There
There’s nothing quite like seeing your parents in the stands at one of your games —
whether it’s a seemingly endless Little League matchup where young pitchers struggle to find the strike zone, or a pivotal high school basketball game under the bright lights. Just being able to spot your mom or dad in the crowd brings a deep sense of significance and assurance. My mom and dad did everything they could to be at my games. Their presence meant the world to me. That tells you something about my parents and our relationship.
But does that tell you anything about God?
A good friend of mine tells a story of his childhood that struck a chord deep in my heart. This is how he told it:
“During my Little League basketball days, my dad had been my biggest fan. He took me to all the games, and when the games were over, we’d get a chocolate malt, then sit in our driveway for a half hour or so and just replay the game in our conversation. Those were sweet times.
As I got older and my games moved to nighttime, my dad, who was a state trooper, was unable to see me play as often due to work conflicts. I was a good player, but not the best on our team. We had a center who was the player of the year in our conference so my main job was to get the ball to him. However, on one night, when we were playing El Dorado, I got hot.
It was one of the few nights that I knew what it meant to be “in the zone.” Everything I shot went in, and at halftime, the coach said the words every player longs to hear: “Let’s get the ball to Kenny.” I was having the time of my life, except for one thing– my dad was not there. He was at work. I couldn’t help but think about how much he would be enjoying this game. I was loving it, but he would have loved it even more … if only he could see it. I actually thought about that a lot, but it was a matter out of my hands, so I just kept playing … and scoring.
The gym I played in had seating on three sides. The fourth side was just a cinderblock wall separating the gym from the outside. At the top of the stands on that cinderblock wall were two fire exits that nobody ever used. Late in the second half, between shooting two free throws, I looked over to our bench to see which defense we would be playing. At that moment, my eyes went to the top of the gym and one of those fire exits. The door was cracked a bit, and in that opening, I could see the face of my dad. What I thought he had missed, he had actually seen.
One of my favorite Bible verses is 2 Chronicles 16:9 (CSB), which reads, “For the eyes of the Lord roam throughout the earth to show himself strong for those who are wholeheartedly devoted to him.”
If my earthly father would go to some lengths to leave his job so he can watch me play something as trivial as high school basketball, to what lengths will my heavenly Father go to in minding and supporting his eternal child?”
Jerry reflects on the lasting impact of a parent’s presence at their child’s games—and draws a parallel to the unwavering presence of our Heavenly Father. You’ll be reminded that even when we think no one sees us, God is always present. Anchored in 2 Chronicles 16:9, this post offers a deeper understanding of God’s attentive love for His children.