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Monday, June 17, 2013

Baseball Rallies and Bacon Burgers - is this Heaven? By Eli from Coach Daddy

A guest post by Eli from Coach Daddy:
It’s tough to get the kids to pay attention in church.
This is mostly because I have trouble paying attention in church.
I need help. Help beyond those seven Religious Studies courses required of a Religious Studies minor like I was. I need to be able to tell my 12-year-old why it’s important that we kind of mumble our way through Psalms we don’t understand. Or endure tales of animal sacrifice in the Old Testament readings.
Or explain why we must have faith.
How’s a guy get his three daughters to believe, when attention spans have shrunk so much they’d fit on a eucharist? When the Pope quits? When other kids get T-shirts at contemporary church and sermons delivered by young men with floppy hair and ripped up jeans wearing Britney Spears headsets?
A guy like me needs a little help – from a baseball team and a cheeseburger, if necessary.

Jesus can hit the curveball   

Marie, my 12-year-old, dutifully recited her prayers at bedtime – Guardian Angel, Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, Our Father … followed by a customized litany to cover extended family to soldiers in battle to friends in ill health.
And the Colorado Rockies. Lord, help my Rockies, who, moments before bedtime this night, trailed the lowly Houston Astros 4-3.
“Amen,” Marie concluded, to which I added quickly, as if I wanted to sneak it in before God disconnected the call. “And let the Rockies score two runs in the bottom of the ninth and win.”
“Dad!” Marie condemned. She might not know much about Paul’s letters to the Corinthians, but she knows when a request to Jesus isn’t of sound mind. “You’re not supposed to pray for stuff like that!”
It was just a June game. Against the Astros.
Pretty sure God listens only in October when it comes to baseball. And not to Rockies fans.
And yet …
After Marie checked out into dreamland, I checked the Internet for the game result.
Rockies, 5, Astros 4. Two runs, bottom of the ninth.
Jesus delivered the big hit for the Rockies that night, proof he doesn’t automatically favor the Angels or Padres. Otherwise, wouldn’t they play in the World Series every year? Wouldn’t the New Orleans Saints win every Super Bowl? And the New Jersey Devils and Duke Blue Devils would never be champs.
Thanks, Jesus.

Hamburgers from heaven   

We stopped into McDonald’s for a cheap snack on the way to the park in the middle of the afternoon.
“Dollar menu, kids,” we said. “Keep it cheap.”
Here’s a secret: Sometimes, when I eat a McDouble, I sometimes pretend it’s a Quarter Pounder with cheese. OK. Almost every time, I pretend it’s a Quarter Pounder with Cheese.
Elise and I waited in line, and that’s when I saw her.
Pure gorgeousness. Curvaceous. Delicious.
The mushroom bacon angus burger. You will be mine, yes.
But beauty comes at a price. The angus burger cost as much as everyone’s order. Combined.
So I did what any hungry poor man would do.
I prayed to Jesus. Right there in McDonald’s.
“Please Jesus,” I said, with an upward gaze and sad brown eyes, “let me have a mushroom bacon angus burger today. Amen.”
I hardly finished my prayer when I felt Elise’s sharp elbow where Adam’s rib should have been.
“Dad!” she strained through gritted teeth. “You’re not supposed to pray for stuff like that!”
I dutifully ordered my pittance of a burger, and everyone else’s. We took our heart attacks in a sack and headed to the park.
“Dad,” Elise called from the back seat. “Did you order the angus burger?”
“Only with Jesus, lovey. Why?”
I swear I heard symphony music. My shell-shocked teen produced from that little white sack a big, white box. Inside that big white box?
An Angus Burger. Mushroom. Bacon.
No such item appeared on my receipt. How in the world …
I’m not sure, but I think I might have raised my hands to the sky when the box opened.
Apparently, Jesus has a soft spot. For the Rockies. And premium burgers.
Or maybe, just for me. Listening girls? Prayer works.
Now pass me a napkin.

When he’s not pondering the depths of parenthood or or getting his groove on, Eli writes the blog about his role as coach and dad to three daughters called Coach Daddy, dedicated to fatherhood, futbol and food – not always in that order.


  1. hey there. would love for you to stop over and link up at my blog hop. …

  2. Lol!!! Love the burger from Heaven, of course Mcdinalds often messes up orders but hey, for whatever reason I am glad you got your burger!

    1. I know - if they'd put a salad in my bag, it would have made for a very different (and less delicious) story.

  3. Enjoyed your blog today. God answers prayers. He wanted to build your daughter's faith. :)

    1. Thanks Mary. I believe it reinforced my faith, too.

  4. Awesome post! He works in mysterious ways. :) I love it when through faith, even our own children can surprise us and often do. Have a great week!

  5. Thanks Stacey! He does work in mysterious (and ninth-inning-rally-and-delicious-burger) ways. I'm just as proud that the kids knew it was a bad idea to pray for rallies and fast food.

    You know, with world hunger and fair pay for, say, teachers, also lingering issues.

  6. And behold, Eli smelled the offering of Angus burger and it was goooooood!

  7. And behold, Eli smelled the offering of Angus burger and it was goooooood!

    1. Amen. God is Good. I'm down with the Old Testament sacrifice, especially with sauteed mushrooms and bacon.

  8. Well that was too funny! God certainly works in mysterious ways, doesn't he?!

  9. And delicious ways, yes. I'm glad he didn't choose to teach me a lesson with a Rockies loss or a gross salad.

    God is good.

  10. Never question manna from heaven Eli....just give thanks and enjoy! LOL

  11. OHMYGOSH I LOVE THIS!!!! Ya know, I always believed that Jesus meets you exactly where you are...and finds you where your heart is softest and most tender for the taking... sports and food sound like He knows you best, Eli!! ;)

    1. I knew you would. Jesus *definitely* knows where to meet me where I live!