October 9, 2024

In late January 2023, I spent two weeks in St. Petersburg, Florida, attending class with Ross Gay for my doctorate. (I am a lucky guy.) We convened at Eckerd College, a small liberal arts school right on the Boca Ciega Bay. Eckerd was formerly Florida Presbyterian College, and I believe that Deborah, who’s joining our church this Sunday, is an alumna.

The campus includes a white-sand beach, owns its own marina, and students play beach volleyball between classes. They do their homework with their toes in the surf.

In between my classes, I’d wander to the baseball field where the Tritons were getting ready for their season. The weather was already in the high 70s. I played a little ball in college, and I recognized the natural camaraderie between the players as they stretched and played catch.

These memories have returned as Hurricane Milton bears down on that very same place. I hope all the students, faculty, and staff have evacuated. Who knows what the campus will be like upon their return? What will they find destroyed or washed away? I pray there will be no loss of life.

I remember those baseball players under the blue sky in the aptly named Sunshine State—how they ran seemingly as carefree as the breeze and how their laughter made melody with the slap of baseballs into their gloves.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. And hope, like baseball, springs eternal.

Read Andrew’s latest “Go Ask Dad” article: “Magic – helping western North Carolina after the hurricane”  HERE