As a coach have you ever had a bad day, bad week, or bad year? Many of us would answer “yes.” At one point, Moses could have said he was having a “bad life.” Most of his life had been a lie. He committed murder, Pharaoh tried to kill him, and, in fear, he ran from his problems to the desert. Then came his defining moment in life—the burning bush.

There are mornings when we awaken with a heavy schedule bearing down upon us. When that happens, we are tempted to skip prayer and Bible reading and head right into our work. However, the very opposite response is really what we need. When we are feeling pressured by our schedules, that is the very time when we ought to pause and pray. The more we have going on in our lives, the more we need God to give us wisdom to accomplish one task at a time. It’s comforting to know that God cares about every aspect of our lives.

I had the privilege of working with Texas high school football coach GaryGaines, best known as the former head coach of State Football Champion Odessa Permian High School as spotlighted in both the book and movie, Friday Night Lights. Gary would often muse, “Coaching would be the perfect profession if only it did not involve the massive highs of winning or the bottomless depths that come about from losing. The extremes are too huge.”

As a coach, you’ve probably tried to learn from the best in your profession through clinics, articles, visits, and the informal conversations that happen when coaches get together. The knowledge we gain is often priceless, but sometimes it’s costly. Costly not so much in the areas of strategy and fundamentals, but in regard to the way we relate to players, coaches, and parents. This is not to suggest that advice in these areas is always negative, but any counsel we receive regarding the “life-related” issues of coaching, family, finances, etc. is potentially harmful if not filtered through God’s Word. Regarding God’s Word, the psalmist writes, “Your decrees are my delight and my counselors” (Ps 119:24).

For four years I watched my little girl, Julianna, walk, run, and twirl her way through our church. For thirteen years I watched another girl in our church, Kindra, live her entire life confined to a wheelchair. One Sunday, Kindra’s mom brought her to church with a new spring outfit. I noticed that there were new shoes, but they sat in Kindra’s lap. After the service, Kindra’s mother gave the shoes to my wife with the request that our daughter wear them. For the next few services, I observed the mom watching Julianna move about the church property in the shoes that Kindra could not wear.

One of my players committed a costly turnover during a basketball game, and I screamed, “How could he be so stupid?” I had officially hit rock bottom as a coach. Winning games had become so important to me that I publicly demeaned a player. My will as a coach needed to be broken and conformed to God’s will. So I spent some time with God and asked Him, “Should I still be coaching?” God graciously provided the answer in Jeremiah 7:3, “Correct your ways and your deeds, and I will allow you to live in this place.” When I knew that God wanted me to coach, I needed to ask “Why do I coach?” Was it for the wins or my personal glory? Or was it to have an impact for Christ?

As a baseball coach for twenty years, I often had to maximize the skills of my players and play “small ball” since my teams were not always blessed with great power. Consequently, the sacrificial bunt was an important part of our offensive arsenal.

Amazingly, the sacrificial bunt, which should be one of baseball’s easiest skills to master, was for some players the most difficult. Most of the players could square around, get the bat out over the plate, and with a relatively loose grip, let the ball hit the bat. But some failed because the player was not willing to “sacrifice” himself and give himself up to move his teammate forward.

Many of us know the exciting story of Moses and the major events that occurred during the time of his leadership. We think of the miracles such as the burning bush and the parting of the Red Sea, and we recall the awesome wonder of the Ten Commandments. What we tend to ingore is the beginning of the story when God came and commissioned Moses to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. When the call came, Moses questioned his ability not once but five times (see Ex 3–4). God reassured Moses, and eventually Moses stepped up to the plate.

I heard a story about a busy intern who worked in the emergency room. An elderly man came in one morning to have stitches removed. He was in a hurry to be treated so he wouldn’t be late for breakfast with his wife. The doctors could not attend to him for at least another hour, so the intern decided to take the stitches out herself. While they were talking, the elderly man explained that his wife suffered from Alzheimer’s disease and had not recognized him for the past five years. When asked why he still visited her every day, he replied, “She doesn’t know me, but I still know who she is.”

Dave Barnes is a coach at a large public school in Spokane, Washington. He is a legendary, state-honored coach, having led his teams to city championships in each of the last twenty years. However, what is more impressive than all his titles is the fact that he is a father to so many of his students and athletes. When Dave was two years old his father abandoned the family, remarried, and moved to another state. When his mother remarried three years later, this new dad became a true father to him. Sadly, when Dave was ten years old, his stepfather was struck by lightening and killed. His mother married a third time a few years later, but this new stepfather was an alcoholic. Dave never really had a dad who lasted.