Hustle Up or Slow Down

My two years of Junior College baseball were fun. I have many memories; some good and some bad. One memory in particular stands out. Go back in time with me, to a spring day in April, in the early innings of game one of a midday doubleheader at Harold T. White field in Booneville, Mississippi. 

Combine the smell of fresh mowed grass mixed with burgers on the grill, rolled into the sound of metal cleats in the concrete dugouts and the low roar of the crowd and you are right there with me at my position as a second baseman for the Northeast Tigers. The loud speakers that were playing in between innings slowly fades away as the hitter steps into the box. I ready myself on the balls of my feet as our pitcher starts his windup and strides toward the plate. Here’s the pitch. Whack! 

A ground ball is buzzing across the top of the trimmed infield grass, onto the dirt, rotating at a speed that makes it impossible to pick up the laces on the dingy brown ball. It’s in this moment where “hustle up” and “slow down” are at odds. Every play in baseball sets off a series of others events that lead to one team winning and one team losing. How I handle this one ground ball sets the pace of how I handle the rest of the ones hit in my direction the rest of the game. 

The runner is halfway down the line as I hustle toward the ball, shuffle my feet, and start to catch it when all of a sudden, out of the dugout I hear my teammates yelling, “SLOW DOWN!” What? Why would I need to slow down? The runner is almost there! The ball is in a race with the runner to first base solely if I get it in the air on time. Don’t I need to Hustle Up? I’ll explain, but let’s finish the play.
 
As my teammates yell for me to slow down, it registers in my mind. Suddenly, it’s almost as if the game just got put into slow motion. I can hear my breath. I can hear the pace of the runners feet hurrying down the first base line. I can see the laces on the ball that was blazing towards me a second before. It bounces into my glove. My momentum has already shifted and my feet are set toward first base. All that’s left is to put this throw right on the money. 

As the last bit of my fingers release the last bit of leather on the ball, time warps forward. All the sounds rush back in. The crowd seems louder now. I follow through on my throw and lean forward to listen for the sound of the ball hitting the glove before the runners foot touches the base. The first baseman stretches forward in an attempt to meet my throw in hopes to assure the out. The two sounds were almost inseparable. In an instant the umpire points at the bag, and then pumps his fist. “Yea, he’s out!”, he shouts. The play is over. Whew. There’s now one out and two to go. As I jog back to my position, I whisper to myself underneath my breath, “bring on the next one.”

I know I went into great detail to explain this play to you. It was only one play in the midst of many other plays. I needed you to go there with me, though. I needed you to see and feel the tension between the hustle up and the slow down. That play, had it gone wrong, could have cost us the game.How? As I mentioned before, how I handled that play was extremely important to how I would handle the rest of the plays in that game. One error has a profound effect on the mentality of an athlete and the morale and of the team. Nothing cuts off momentum like an error on routine ground ball. 

There were so many moving parts in this play. One play had a major impact on the rest of the game. Life is not much different. Life has many demands; work, marriage, family, kids. What about being a good citizen, a loving neighbor, and a Christian. Where does community service fit? How we handle these crises, responsibilities, passions, and relationships all have an impact on each other. 

You know you need rest, but you don’t see how it fits. Then it happens. It’s that moment when you didn’t check your calendar. Now, you’re double booked and you’re going to have to choose between your kids kindergarten graduation and a business meeting with a client who’s only night was tonight. What about that date night? The date night you’ve been pushing back because you can “always go next Friday.” We wonder why our marriage doesn’t have the same “passion” it once had. Now our spouses are wondering if we still love them. Since when did it get easier to quit your marriage than it did to clear your calendar?

Lastly, what about prayer? When was the last time you stopped long enough to sit still, stop scrolling, and consuming content to just be in God’s presence. 

I wanted to use this play to break down how we handle life; opportunities, problems, relationships. All these and more are thrown our way on any given day. Life is bouncy and fast paced; a lot like that ground ball that was hit toward me. It’s hard to get a good look at it when our pace is so fast. Couple our personal fast-paced lives with social media and news outlets and now you get an instant look into the rest of the worlds sufferings, problems, and relationships. What do we do? In an attempt to be helpful, good Christian people, we pick up our pace up and chalk ourselves up as hard workers. We are “making a difference” after all, right? Now our ego is involved. I’ve heard it said that ego stands for “Edging God Out.” That’s not far off, considering how few people are not too busy to read the Bible and pray. I get it. I’m just as guilty. 

If we can break the bad habit, if we can slow down and bring our attention back to the fundamentals, we might be far more effective, no matter what is hit our way. Consider me as your teammate in the dugout screaming “SLOW DOWN!” 

I understand your objections. “I’m a hard worker. I run circles around people. I gotta grind. Hustle. Push. Strive. Optimize.” Go back and read that sentence and tell me if you can read it slowly. My heart rate elevates just reading those words. No wonder we are tired.

Here’s the bottom line: Outworking others doesn’t matter if you’re overworking yourself. 

Until next time, take a day off from the gym. Take a nap. Drive the speed limit, for Pete’s sake. Take a deep breath… and SLOW DOWN. I dare you.