Recently I was playing catch with my 6-year-old granddaughter. She was using a ball with a map of the world stamped on it.
As is often the case with youngsters, the rules of the game are flexible and quick to change, along with the number of participants. At one point, the rule became that the ball could not touch the ground as we tossed it back and forth.
When it did, Ladybug decided she was out of the game…but one of the other participants tossed the ball back to her. As it came towards her, she said, “I threw the world away…but someone threw it back to me.”
That’s a simple phrase, but it also struck me as quite a profound one.
How many times have I thrown the world away because I’ve been mad at somebody or something?
How many times have we thrown the world away…because of our lack of care for her? because we decided that what we wanted was more important? because we didn’t know better?
And how many times has someone thrown it back to us for another chance?
I’m grateful that someone has cared enough to give me another chance…has cared enough to give all of us another chance. But I also find myself wondering…how many more times can we throw the world away before someone quits throwing it back to us?