One thing I love about FCA is how it ties our athletic lives into our faith. A lot of similarities can be drawn between Christianity and sports.

I own a funeral home, and I therefore attend a lot of funerals. One sermon I’ve heard a few times that I really like is about the dash. The dash that is talked about is the dash put on a headstone between the date of birth and the date of death. The point the pastor makes is that what is important is what is lived out in that dash between your date of birth and your date of death.

More than thirty years later there is still evidence that my front tooth took a chunk of wood out of my mom’s furniture. When my two older brothers and I were kids, we invented a game called “Walkie-Talkie.” I know a walkie-talkie is a portable, handheld communication device, but we hijacked the name because it perfectly fit our game. When I think back on it, I’m pretty sure it was really just a game that allowed my brothers to inflict bodily harm on me, but I wasn’t smart enough to figure that out. I was just thankful they wanted to do something with their youngest brother. (Do I hear an “Amen!” from all the youngest kids out there?)

Back when I played “ankle-biter” football as an 8-year-old, I remember how parents would pull their cars up next to field and shine their car lights

when the practice was running late and it was getting too dark to see the ball. Our coach needed more light to teach us that big play that would win

it for us on Saturday. Four cars (eight lights) lit the practice field up like a Christmas tree! As little football players, we saw the light.

As athletes we need to S.E.E. the light. Not the car lights, but another kind of light. This light deals with our physical bodies that God created

for us to take care of, not abuse. S.E.E. stands for Sleep, Eat and Exercise. I meet so many competitors who train hard on the field of competition,

God gives second chances. Actually, God gives us more than just second chances; He gives us millions of chances, because despite our endless mistakes and sins, God still loves us. I don’t know about you, but I mess up a lot. Whether it is by having pride, judging others, denying God’s will in my life or giving into temptation, I just cannot seem to stop feeling like I am failing Him. After seeming to let God down so many times it is hard to understand that He still has a plan to use me to do His will. But, boy, does He have a plan.

As I read commentary on last week’s NFL Draft, I was reminded of that special feeling we get when we are chosen for a team. Whether it is being picked for the sandlot team, making the cut for the varsity, being recruited to a college, or being drafted to a professional organization, there is always a wonderful sense of acceptance and gratitude when we “make the team.”

I remember my own experience of walking up to the coach’s door after tryouts to see if my name was on his list. I remember grinning happily when I saw my name and high-fiving friends who also had made the team. I remember feeling called, chosen, set apart for a unique purpose. I was part of the team.

One of the biggest hindrances to an athlete's performance is doubt. Wondering whether or not he or she is capable of doing the job. From the hitting drills of football to individual at-bats of baseball to the weight lifting of everyone, a major factor of success is being confident in the ability to do something.

I love to run. It allows me an extra opportunity to connect with my Creator. It’s more than just seeing His beauty in nature, so much more! The longer I run, the more I hear His voice. Is it the physical exertion? Can it be the steady cadence? I think it’s more about just being quiet.

I hit the road taking my usual route. I crave the familiar. I run it many times each week and know it well. Halfway through, I prepare for my least favorite part: a sizable hill with a nasty bend. I’m tired and, yet, I’m far from done. In order to tackle this ascent, I need the Lord to carry me.