What if God was an NFL referee?

I talked with one of my best friends in the world tonight. Larry and his wife, Donna, live in Tucson, Arizona. He told me, on the phone, how he escaped near-death for the second time.

It should be noted that Larry suffered a major heart attack about five years ago. He died for a few minutes.

Just a few weeks ago, he wrecked a motorcycle, and his heart didn’t give out this time.

We talked about this fact, … his heart, … extensively, … which got us into talking about life and stuff.

Larry is a “non-sometimes-wants to be-recovering Catholic-believer.”

After talking politics, sports, etc., I told him about playing football with Ethan, my son, today.

I know the game of football.

Ethan knows how to run around the backyard like all three and a half year old boys do, and he knows how much fun it is to tackle and chase after the ball in the grass. He doesn't know the rules.

He will someday know the “game” of football, but right now Ethan only knows what he knows.

So, I told Larry that I found myself standing with the football in my hand, … frustrated, ... with decades worth of football knowledge, … knowing all the rules … watching my son run around the yard, ... he, ... wanting to do nothing else but get dirty and muddy while laughing and having fun, … me wanting ... him to just understand the importance of “hike.”

And Larry thought that God might watch motorcycle crashes too.