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Emily Whitten: One last basket

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WORLD Radio - Emily Whitten: One last basket

To the one who gives in friendship, more will be given


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ANNA JOHANSEN BROWN, HOST: Today is Saturday, June 24th. Good morning! This is The World and Everything in It: Weekend from listener-supported WORLD Radio. I’m Anna Johansen Brown.

PAUL BUTLER, HOST: And I’m Paul Butler. Well Anna, what a memorable couple weeks…two special projects you’ve been involved with have come to an end. this week Season 4 of Effective Compassion concluded as we’ve considered how the church can be better involved in ministering to orphans and kids in the foster system. And Lawless Season 2: the Terri Schiavo story wrapped up earlier this month.

BROWN: It’s been surreal…almost three years of reporting, researching, Terri biographies on table, strange to have wrapped that. Some really incredible reporting with a lot of weight. And I’ve felt that responsibility. So much misinformation, really wanted to tell the whole story and get it right. Weight off my mind. But I know that even as we wrap those projects, there are even more coming up with some of our other reporters.

BUTLER: That’s right. A few of our listeners have wondered when DoubleTake season two begins…it starts up in just a few weeks, and the fourth season of the Legal Docket podcast returns this fall.

So if you appreciate WORLD Radio’s long-form journalism and special episodes like this one, but you haven’t given yet, would you consider making a gift during this final week of our June giving drive? Just head to wng.org/donate. Thanks so much.

BROWN: Up next…Emily Whitten has a reflection on basketball, friendship, and the steadfast love of God.

AMBI: Ready, set, go. So close! So close. All right, try again.

EMILY WHITTEN, COMMENTATOR: : At approximately 11:40 most weekday mornings, if you drive by my house, you’ll see me with a blue and white basketball, shooting hoops with my friend Mariah.

It’s never too hot or too cold for Mariah. We sometimes reschedule for rain. Or if I have a writing deadline. Or if she and her mom have to get their hair done. Mariah can be flexible when she has to. But only if she really, really has to.

MARIAH : Alright, let’s do it! Just for fun!
EMILY: Alright, just for fun, let’s do it!

That’s because Mariah has Down syndrome. Which means, among other things, she craves routine. She loves that we walk the same way to and from her house each day. She’s content to make the same number of shots. Always 10—plus a “last one, just for fun!” While we play, we always repeat the same cheers, with the same inflection—“Here we go, bulldogs, here we go.”

MARIAH: Let’s go bulldog (claps) let’s go bulldogs (claps)

That’s our team name—the bulldogs. Despite the fact that she usually wears a Chicago cubs T-shirt and a Chicago bulls hat. When we’re done playing, we always pray. Mariah knows Jesus, and she loves to pray.

MARIAH: Thank you, Lord.. of my heart. Amen.
EMILY: Amen. thank you, Lord, for taking care of us

The day our friendship began, I had been praying—Lord, would you show me someone in our neighborhood I could serve? We live in a city with a high turnover rate, so it’s hard to get to know people. We’re busy; they’re busy. But my kids had recently switched from homeschooling to a small private school, so I knew I’d often be home alone…and feeling that runner’s high one morning, I knocked on her door. I introduced myself to her family, and invited her to come meet our bunny or go on a walk sometime.

I will admit, it took a while for Mariah and I to “get” each other. Petting the bunny was nice, but she liked playing our ukulele or piano better. During COVID, we sang hymns together on the phone as she played her keyboard. But one day, I discovered basketball is one of Mariah’s favorite things, and we never looked back. So now, except on rainy days when we pull out the uke again, she and I play basketball.

I should say, we used to. This Friday will be our last game. Mariah and her mom are moving to live with another relative—she’s not sure where, and I keep forgetting to ask her mom. She looks forward to the move, but for me, it probably means my jump shot will get rusty again.

When I met Mariah, I thought maybe I could serve her—and I have, I hope. But she’s also served me—entertaining me, singing me hymns, praying for me. Her consistent smiles and hugs have shown me a little bit more of God’s steadfast love. I’ll miss her. But when we take the court tomorrow as the bulldogs, maybe for the last time this side of glory, we’ll both be smiling. It’ll be our “last one… just for fun.”

AMBI: You shoot it, and I’ll get the rebound. Two. Two-nothing. Oh no, you’re beating me. Yes. Oh no, what was that? Airball! Airball! 

I’m Emily Whitten.


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