During one summer of my life, I made the ill-fated decision to join a recreational co-ed softball team. Admittedly, it was a match of convenience—I was looking for community, and they were looking for another female to fill one of the slots—but I was confident it was only a matter of time before we hit it off. So to speak.
It quickly became clear, however, that my skills lay elsewhere, and I was delicately asked to be the scorekeeper. I hesitated at first, since I have limited aptitude with numbers, but I figured it had to be better than the outfield. (Believe it or not, you're supposed to keep your eyes open when you catch a fly ball.)
So I learned the ins and outs of keeping stats, and eventually I got pretty decent at it. Except for one thing. Sometimes we'd get to the end of the game and I wouldn't have a clue who'd won. Oh, it was written down right under my nose, of course. But somewhere in the midst of recording strikes and outs and base hits, I managed to lose sight of the big picture. At the end of the day, nobody cared all that much who got walked in the third inning; they just wanted to know if we won.
No Record of Wrongs
At my wedding just over a year ago, the pastor read what might be considered the hallmark passage about love:
Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance (1 Corinthians 13:4-7).