Dear friends & partners,

Merry, merry Christmas to you!  As I write you this beautiful morning, I am asking the Lord to slow down time for you this holiday season.  I pray the Father would allow you another hour by the fire, another smile from a grandbaby, one more cup of coffee with a friend, and an extra kiss from Him.  This time of year seems to race by at breakneck speed.  May this year be different.

As I thought about our final letter to you for the year, I simply had to let you hear from our board member, Josh Wood.  Recently, he shared this perspective with us at a retreat and you must hear it…

“At 14 or 15 years old, I found myself playing in a championship game out at the old North Randall County baseball fields. Here’s the setting: 1 out. Bottom of the 9^th (we didn’t actually play nine innings, I think it was 7 or something; but, you get the point.) Runners on 1^st and 3^rd base. My team is batting. We’re down by one run. Young Josh is in the on-deck circle taking a few practice swings, but mostly praying to God that the game doesn’t come down to his ability to hit the ball under pressure. His prayer request was not granted. The batter before me was called out. Two outs. Bottom of the 9^th. Championship game. Down by 1. 2 runners on base. Young Josh walks up to the plate. I was the smallest guy on the team, scrawny with big glasses and my overly large shirt tucked in just a bit too far. I looked more like I belonged at some sort of Space Camp rather than on a baseball field. The fact that my team was in the championship game was no thanks to me. I spent about half the time on the bench watching better players play. But, I digress. Long story short, if you were rooting for my team, I was the last guy that you wanted at the plate at this moment. In came the first pitch: strike one. To this day, I can still hear the sighs of the crowd behind the backstop. They weren’t sighs of hopeful anticipation. They were sighs of foregone conclusion. Scrawny kid was going to strike out, and everyone knew it. In came the second pitch. Strike two. The crowd, which was pretty large (by North Randall County baseball complex standards) sighed again a sigh of resignation. Then came pitch three. I hit the ball further than I’d ever hit a ball in my life (which was barely over the shortstop’s head). Both runs score. Yelling, jumping, screaming, and high-fiving ensued. I could see my Dad in the stands doing a fair amount of “That’s my boy!” yelling. I was the hero. It was the highlight of my little life. When I got in the car for the ride home, my dad looked at me and said, “I knew you could do it. I knew you were going to do it. I knew you could do it!”

Keep that story in the back of your head for a minute. Let’s talk about David and Goliath. From the day of that championship game forward, I saw the story of David and Goliath from a different perspective. Disclaimer: what follows obviously isn’t in the Bible. It’s a story meant to illustrate a point.

Young David is starting to walk down the road to the battlefield to deliver some supplies to his brothers. Meanwhile, up in Heaven, God is starting to rally a crowd behind a Heavenly backstop. “Everyone get over here and take a seat. You’re all going to want to watch this. This is one of those stories that I’m putting in the Bible for all generations to hear about.” As the angels are gathering around and peering down from above, David is down on earth trying on Saul’s awkwardly large armor. It is becoming apparent to Heaven and Earth that this scrawny kid is about to fight the giant, Goliath. The angels are talking amongst themselves, wondering if this is going to be one of the stories in the Bible about a martyr…or if perhaps God is going to strike Goliath blind…or cause an earthquake or something. Everyone is thinking the same thing. Really? This kid? He’s been riding the bench all season and we’re putting him up against Goliath? God silences the room, looks around at all the angels, looks down at earth, and says to everyone. “Sit back and watch and prepare to be amazed. You have no idea what he is capable of.” As we all know, David slays the giant. There is rejoicing in Heaven and on earth. Yelling, jumping, screaming, and high-fiving ensued. God sits back and says, “That’s my boy! I knew he could do it. I knew he was going to do it. I knew he could do it!”

Every day at CareNet, young ladies are stepping up the plate. They have two strikes against them. The world is sighing a sigh of resignation. “She’s up? She knows nothing but failure.”  “It’s him?! Anyone, but that guy!”  Meanwhile, I imagine a loving God who is gathering a crowd. “Gather around, everyone. You’re going to want to watch this. She may not look like much, but you have no idea what she is capable of. Rather, you have no idea what I’m capable of doing through her.””

As the years go by don’t we all, like Josh, realize how blessed we were?  Many of us had great dads and at least one voice behind the backstop saying, “I know you can do it.” But if you think long enough can’t you remember a time that you were terrified to be the one “holding the bat”?  Often, it is at that exact moment in a person’s life, where we come in.  Two outs. Bottom of the 9^th. Championship game. Down by 1. 2 runners on base. Scrawny kid walks up to the plate… They have a crowd of dissent and no hope. To me this sets the stage for one of the most powerful gifts that CareNet gives. To thousands of girls, boys, men, and women, CareNet is relaying the voice of God, “I’m here. I am for you. I know you can do it, and I can accomplish great things through you.” When these girls and boys and men and women feel as though the world is against them, they hear the good news that one voice is for them; and, better news yet: it’s the only one that matters.

Will you help us as we continue to say “We know you can do it. We knew you would do it!”?

*Click here for CareNet’s donation page. Please consider sending a special tax-deductible year-end gift.  There is so much more to do and we can’t do it without you. We appreciate your support so much.

Keep swinging the bat,