My life as a Chipper Jones fan-girl.

Hi, just in case you've been under a rock, this is Chipper Jones, and he's played for the Braves since 1993.

And I've loved him since then.

I suppose you could say that CJ was my first sports crush. I would sit at the balcony, getting in trouble because i wasn't going to bed, just so I could watch him up to bat one more time.
I had the jerseys and a signed black and white picture, along with a color photo someone had taken at the world series (and was a gift that i'd scored from a friend of a friend who knew I was basically the number one Chipper Jones fan girl of Pierce County Georgia).
My uncle and my cousin took me to a Braves game when I was in 3rd grade, and I remember being just intrigued by being even that close to him (we had dugout seats and I was in heaven, because "Hot dang, I can see Chipper Jones' face!").

See, I might not be able to remember everyone that's ever played for the Braves.
I can start naming players I remember.
But to me, Chipper's always been more than a baseball player.

Chipper embodies my childhood. One of the best memories i have is being at that baseball game at the old Fulton County Stadium, watching Chipper (in the rain), with my sign (which probably wilted by the end of the night) asking Chipper to marry me (forget the fact he was married, my 8 year old self could not be deterred).
I remember how mad I used to get when anyone would curse the name of Chipper Jones. Why? Because in the eyes of little girl me, he was absolutely perfect. And in the eyes of 24-year old me, he's still not far from it.
I remember fighting over the #10 jersey playing rec league softball, because we were all in love with either him or Javy Lopez (that was more towards the time everyone started hitting puberty), and we'd literally fuss over who got the coveted (and what we thought was blessed) #10 jersey. Pretty much, the only reason we wanted our parents to coach was so we'd get first dibs on the #10 jersey.
I remember how the house had to be absolutely quiet any time anyone talked about Chipper on TV, or he was up to bat, and God forbid anyone even sneeze if he was talking.

See, I feel like, every generation of baseball fans have that ONE person. That ONE person who defines a specific period of greatness in their childhood. Derek Jeter, Brian Wilson, Tim Lincecum, Albert Pujols, Josh Hamilton, and Chase Utley come to mind (i purposely picked non-Braves players as examples, just for the sake of it). Mine was, and always will be, Chipper Jones.
Chipper retiring comes as no surprise. No great thing can go on forever. Plus he has more important things to worry about, like his family.
And I understand that. I respect that.
Does it mean I'm not going to cry like a baby when I go to one more Braves game? No. I will cry, more than likely, sitting next to my boyfriend, who, Lord help him, watches me cry at movies and doesn't really know what to do. I will probably take 9,000 pictures and send it to everyone in my contact list, even my friends who are die-hard Giants fans or could care less about baseball, and post them all over Facebook. And I will be a blubbering mess, because Chipper Jones is the last thing from my childhood to slowly fade, leaving me with stories and pictures to show my children what greatness really was.

Someone asked me once if I could meet one person who defined my childhood, what were 2 things I'd tell them. Of course, I picked Chipper. So in a nutshell, here it is:
1, You, sir, if nothing else, have been loved by so many, because you have given much to us as fans. I'm sure i'm one of many who have stories like mine, and have childhoods driven by memories of watching you play. I'm proud to have gotten to grow up knowing what awesome is.
2, I feel like this doesn't begin to cover it, but thank you. Thank you for everything.


Now excuse me world, I am a blubbering mess (because every time I think about Chipper retiring, it feels like my heart rips out) and need a minute to recover.

When it's hard.

Most of the time, I'm okay.

I've battled with severe anxiety, feelings of worthlessness, etc, for a good portion of my life.

And since I gave it up to God, most of the time, I'm okay.

But then, something happens.

I fail at something.

Or someone doesn't think before they open their mouths and says something cutting.

Or if (gasp) I have to ask for help.

That's when Satan sneaks in.

Sneaky, sneaky Satan.

With the lies.

Lies telling me that I'm not good enough.

Lies telling me I'm worth nothing.

Lies telling me that God is holding everything over my head.

According to him, God doesn't even care about me. 

I'm a pawn in a game.

And sometimes, I can put it out of my head immediately. 

Other times...I'm not so strong.

And I'll listen to the lies.

And believe them.

I'm thankful for the people in my life. I confessed how I was feeling to one friend, and they simply texted me 'Just stay strong.' (considering tattooing that on my wrist, so I can see it when I need it),

Another friend gave me an 'apple of gold.'

What is boils down to is that Satan tries to feed us his fruit.

Lies, deceit, worthlessness, self-pity.

The list goes on.

And sometimes we take it.

It looks so...normal...

It must be true. 

I mean, honestly? He makes a few very valid points.

But the thing is,

when we take that fruit,

we get sick.

Sick with depression.

Anxiety.

Self-pity.

Feelings of hopelessness.

Feelings of guilt.

Shame.

Worthlessness.

We keep eating that fruit, until we're sick.

Shadows of the people Christ has called us to be.

Oh sure, we know the scripture.

We know God is always with us, He'll never leave us, etc.

Chances are, we can quote it verbatim.

Some of us from 4 different versions of the bible.

But, because we've eaten the fruit of lies for so long, 

we don't believe it in our hearts.

I suppose the answer for that is simple.

We put down the fruit. 

We stop eating the fruit of Satan, 

the lies, the deceit.

We take up the armor of God (Ephesians 6),

and we start eating of the fruits of the spirit.

Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.

And we have to be sure to fill our minds with scripture about who we are in Christ.

And purpose ourselves that, the next time we're attacked like that, we know how to stage the counter.

Isn't that half of all battles?

Knowing how to stage the counter attack?

See, I serve a big God.

I serve a God who tells me I am treasured by Him.

I am His child.

I am not an orphan.

I have been given a spirit of adoption, by which I can scream for my Abba when I need Him (Romans 8:15)

I am more than a conqueror through him (Romans 8:37).

His promises are good.

His mercy is faithful.

Thank you Jesus.

This is the passage I read the day after my rotten one. God knew what I needed.

Psalm 16:
Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge.
² I say to the Lord, “You are my Lord;
     I have no good apart from you.”

³ As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones,
    in whom is all my delight.

⁴ The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply;
    their drink offerings of blood I will not pour out
    or take their names on my lips.

⁵ The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;
    you hold my lot.
⁶ The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
    indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.

⁷ I bless the Lord who gives me counsel;
    in the night also my heart instructs me.
⁸ I have set the Lord always before me;
    because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.

⁹ Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices;
    my flesh also dwells secure.
¹⁰ For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
     or let your holy one see corruption.

¹¹ You make known to me the path of life;
    in your presence there is fullness of joy;
    at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.