Kickball was a huge deal in my neighborhood. My house was the one with the large, nicely mowed field (thanks dad) and so the kickball games always happened there. We would play until it was too dark to see the ball and the mosquitoes too unbearable. It was really fun but kind of stressful too.

I remember when all that mattered to me was being able to kick that yellow rubber ball past the tree line and be the fastest to sprint around the bases. It sounds bad, but I didn’t care about the important things like getting to heaven and becoming a saint. All I wanted was to be the best at kickball and I felt like if I wasn’t, my friends would think less of me or not want me around.