Hearing God

A Christian devotional about deaf ballplayer Curtis Pride and his faith in listening to the Lord by following his heart.

By Hugh Poland

In this article:

When the people saw the thunder and lightning and heard
the trumpet and saw the mountain in smoke, they trembled with fear.
They stayed at a distance and said to Moses, "Speak to us yourself
and we will listen. But do not have God speak to us or we will die."
Moses said to the people, "Do not be afraid. God has come to test
you, so that the fear of God will be with you to keep you from
sinning." The people remained at a distance, while Moses
approached the thick darkness where God was.
—Exodus 20:18–21

The most famous of the Dodger fans...was named Hilda Chester,
a plump, pink-faced woman with a mop of stringy
gray hair...During the games Hilda lived in the bleacher
seats with her bell...With her fish peddler voice, she'd say,
"You know me. Hilda wit da bell. Ain't it trillin'? Home wuz
never like dis, mac." When disturbed her favorite line was,
"Eacha heart out, ya bum."
—Peter Golenbock, in Bums: An Oral History of the Brooklyn Dodgers (1984)

The soundtrack of a ballpark is very satisfying for most fans. In fact, there is a certain "all is right with the world" feeling when we hear the crack of the bat, the pop of the ball in a glove, and the umpire's voice yelling, "Safe!" above a roaring crowd. Even the nasal-voiced hot dog vendor roaming through the stands can go toe-to-toe with talented vocalists of our day.

But what if you couldn't hear any of that? Would it still be baseball? Late in the 1993 season, when minor-leaguers are called up to the big leagues for a cup of coffee, an outfielder by the name of Curtis Pride made he debut with the Montreal Expos. The second-place Expos were at home, battling the Philadelphia Phillies for the division lead, when Pride stepped to the plate with the home team down 7–4 and two men on base.

He wasted no time, ripping a double on the first pitch that scored both runners. The capacity crowd of Olympic Stadium nearly brought the house down with their cheers for the young rookie. Time was called, and the Expos third base coach ran out to second base, but instead of congratulating Pride, the coach asked Pride to take off his helmet.

"What's wrong with my helmet?" wondered Pride. Then he understood that third base coach Jerry Manuel wanted him to tip his helmet to the fans and acknowledge their cheers. Pride obliged, only then realizing that the people were thundering their applause for him.

You see, Curtis Pride is deaf. He can't hear the crack of the bat or most of the other sounds that we associate with baseball. With only 5 percent of his hearing intact due to his mother contracting rubella during her pregnancy, Pride has to read lips and sense vibrations from loud noises. But he communicates quite well and has vowed never to allow his disability to slow down his baseball career. "My other senses are more sensitive," he says. "Smell, feel, and seeing are much sharper because of my [lack of] hearing."

After the game, a reporter asked Pride if he could hear the cheering, standing on second base. "Here," Pride said as he pointed to his heart. "I could hear it here."

"How do you hear God speak?"

"There have been many times that I wished I could hear God speak to me audibly to give me direction. Sometimes I think it would be great to simply surf over to www.willofGod.com so that I could understand what God is saying. Or maybe God would just arrange the clouds into letters and spell out his plans for my life. I would even take a text message on my cell phone from God."