just pitch.

She used to be the one cheering for the pitcher (the handsome pitcher, might I add), but all eyes were on her this time.

She had practiced before the game, was confident in her ability to throw the ball through the air and into the catcher's mitt, had a moment of frustration when the pitch didn't turn out like she'd hoped it would, threw her hands up as if to say, "Oh well," and walked off the field with her head held high while wearing a smile on her face.

I couldn't help but notice a striking resemblance between that pitch and the current trial she is in the midst of.

She had her life planned out and was steadily on her way to reaching many of the goals and dreams she had made, and it hasn't turned out like she thought it would. But although she has grieved over her circumstances and experienced a roller coaster of emotions since receiving her diagnosis, she has walked with her head held high while wearing a smile on her face.

She didn't throw a strike, but the crowd still cheered. Similarly, her life isn't what she had planned, but people have been moved by the testimony that she is living out and are doing more than cheering: their support is reminding her that just like a bad throw doesn't determine the end of the game, a tough season doesn't mean that life isn't worth living.

She pitched the ball, which is exactly what she set out to do. She is living her life as fully as possible, which is a testimony to the determination in her soul. And she is inspiring thousands of us to hold onto hope, to keep our eyes above the waves crashing around us, and to realize that life is a beautiful gift, even when it doesn't feel like it is.

In the face of disappointment, my prayer is that all of us would learn from Angie and simply raise our hands, say, "Oh well," and keep going. No matter what, in the face of hurt and loss and frustration, just keep going.

And smile. Whatever you do, don't forget to smile.