3:30 AM Reflections

Doing dishes I found myself channeling my inner Brother Lawrence.  I was trying to help at our churches local warming shelter during the cold snap. Seeking the solace and comfort found only in the love of God.  Praying, yearning for some sense of his presence, all the while flinching at every move.  

Every sound made me wonder if the man (let's leave his name out of this) who was battling schizophrenia was hitting his breaking point.  After looking at pictures on the wall accusing them of being how we watched him, as well as his attempts to rile me up, asking me over and over if I wanted to go outside...every noise had me checking the kitchen window. One of the other guests calmed him down but he began to pace and fidget with everything.

I found myself asking the Lord to be incredibly present, to be my calm, be my courage, grant me grace upon grace.  And still every flush of the toilet I could hear through the wall, every open and close of the door to outside, every step someone would take I found myself flinching looking out the door window, then the back door in case he had looped around the building in an effort to surprise me...

...and it came to me...

This rush of understanding.

Sadness.

This feeling, this being on edge, this paranoia...just might be a taste of what he feels when he is off his meds as he was tonight. For a few moments, the edginess seemed to me a lesson.  A hard one.  A reminder of the pain of our world.  Be it Aleppo.  Be it Sudan.  Be it Flint. Be it Standing Rock.  Be it gangs.  Be it the drug trade.  Be it the sex trade. Pain is everywhere.  The sting, the stench, the reminders of the effects of sin permeate our lives.  And it was a reminder of how often we do all we can to shield ourselves, shield our children from it. 

And that's when my mind floated to my children. Still young, unknown who they will be when they head out on their own.  Their personalities starting to emerge.  Their individual passions and joy coming out. And with that, their pain too.  I would do anything to shield them from pain, to make their lives as pain-free, sin stench and sin sting free as possible!! And I shudder at the reality that I am powerless to do so.

Dear God.  Thank you for my family.  Thank you for Mom and Dad and Dom and Mia.  Thank you that we are all here, together as one family.

The prayer of my middle child echoing in my ears.  The prayer of my child who over the past months had an awakening of questions about his birth parents, his process towards adoption. The prayer of my child reminding me of the glimpses of the Kingdom of heaven.  Where God makes a family where there was no family. Where glimpses of grace echo within my ears and heart.

I left the kitchen.  Put all the cups back in their place, sat down to read my book.  Things were calm again, our friend came over, apologized, put a blanket on the man sleeping next to me.  Then he went back and laid on the floor, presumably to rest.  Seeming to know for those few moments that this church he was in was safe, was warm, and a place where he didn't have to fear.

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Webele Uganda

As I sit in this air conditioned coffee shop, an FCA Staff favorite, my heart and mind are with the

many friends and family I gained while in Uganda.  I sat down to write about my experience, the growth God had caused within me, and my heart and mind are with the many friends and family I gained while in Uganda.  I have so many stories to share about the team I had the opportunity to travel with, how God used them, how God shook them; and my heart and mind are with the many friends and family I gained while in Uganda. There are not words nor space to tell their stories in one post; so maybe this becomes a continued post.  But as those who might take time to read this blog could tell you, I haven't been the best at writing series posts...

Sarah Nambawa
The mission and vision of FCA rolled off her tongue.  It was clear that it was not just an organizational passion; but one that Sarah held deeply.  A national hero, an athlete who was featured on the front page of the local paper just the week before, she stood before athletes and coaches and declared the mission and vision of FCA with conviction and passion.  No one could doubt that it was hers as well.  I have found a sister who inspires me greatly.  She leads her team in an amazing ways.  A team that is not paid, but it was clear they would rally around her and FCA because it was a mission and vision that they held deeply as well.  Sarah and I had many opportunities to talk about ministry; about serving and loving coaches and athletes.  We also had many opportunities to laugh with one another and rejoice with one another.  I will miss Sarah greatly. She is most definitely my sister. It was an honor to serve alongside her.  I pray she received encouragement and challenge from me; as I did from her.

Alan Nyago
One of Sarah's teammates; local to the community we spent most of our time in.  Alan, a man who's story and calling reflected much of my own.  A pastor and a coach, who coached multiple sports and worked alongside Sarah.  His stories of coaching clearly exposed him as a 3 Dimensional Coach.  As I walked Alan and Sarah through pieces of the 3D curriculum, his eyes and heart would light up.  You could see how much it resonated deeply within him. We enjoyed sharing coaching stories and our heart to see God transform the culture of sports to be a place of hope, belonging and a reflection of kingdom culture.

Emma 
This young man is legit. The son of a peasant farmer.  The son of a King.  A community leader who joined us as we led sports camps.  A young man who shared his testimony as if he had been speaking for years.  His ability to connect with the young people at the schools was evident.  The love and respect each of these children had for him was clear and obvious. I greatly enjoyed sitting with he and his father (coming soon), sharing hope and love with one another.  Every moment spent with Emma was a gift.  As we sat in his family's home the final day, they had gifts they wanted to give to us.  As I looked at the different bracelets on the table, I grabbed Emma's arm to study his and told him; I want mine to match yours.  Oh, to be like Emma, that would be a gift.

Philip
Emma's Father. A Holy man.  As we walked to their home on the final day, I said to one of the students, I feel as if we are walking to meet with the holy man.  My heart was anticipating the words and heart of God to meet with us through him because of his unbelievable obedience and connection with our creator.  Early in the week, our team leader asked about the growth in his family, the 3 children that had been added to their home in the last 6 months since they had seen them.  His response, "If I see children in need and do nothing; I am sinning against God." Mic drop. 'Nuff said.  The thought that I don't have enough space to continue to provide safety for kids seems silly.  Philip spoke so much hope and joy into our team.  It was abundantly clear as we sat in his home, that it had become our home.  That being with him was being with a holy man of God, a man whom God had chosen to reveal his greatness and glory through.


There are many more, and not enough words to type...but again to those who became family and friends...Webele for sharing yourselves with me...

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Dear Graduate

You guys did it!! High School. Finished.  Most of you I won't have the privilege of seeing you receive the diploma you earned or even be at all the graduation celebrations.  So I wanted to just take a moment and say...

I knew it.  I knew you'd get here.  There was no doubt or wonder in my mind that you'd make it.  This is what you were made to do!  You were made to face challenges and step right over them, plow through them, you were made to succeed.

Here's the deal though...you are just getting started.  I'm so proud of each of you for putting your heads down and focusing on your work to get to this day.  In the midst of practice, games, training, work, sickness, life changes, all sorts of time-eaters; you pushed through and did it!

Now, get ready to do it again and again and again and again! You've done it over and over these past 18 years and now you will continue to do it throughout the rest of your life.  You were created, not to have challenges or obstacles break you down; you were created to go and do amazing things!  You were stamped with the image of the Creator, not just to get by, not just to live...but to LIVE!  Jesus said I've come that you might have abundant life!  So let's get after that abundant life!

Whether you starting your career, your time in trade school, an academy or college, get after it!  No matter what life looks like in 5, 10, 15 or 20 years...never stop getting after it.  Attack life with a zeal that never ceases, never wanes, never is overcome by the challenges you will inevitably face.

Lastly, I'd like to leave you with 3 thoughts:

1. You are made in the image of God.  Who you are is defined by the one who made you and whose image you were made in.  You are not the job you do.  You are not the sport you play.  You are not grades you get, the hobby you do, or a passive object that things happen to.  True, each of these things play a role in how you live, but that's not who you are!  Don't ever let your performance in any area of life (work, school, relationships) become how you measure your worth. Your worth is based on the One whose breath (ruach- look it up, it's Hebrew) you breathe.
2. Your life is not about you.  You have not been given this breath, this life to lead, these challenges to overcome so you can fatten your ego, feel better about yourself, and get whatever you can get in

this world.   Just because you were made in the image of God doesn't mean the world owes you anything.   Go change stuff, make stuff, teach stuff, play stuff, talk about stuff by serving everyone you come in contact with.  You are here for everyone else; live for them, make it better for them.  You are not here for you, you are here to do good for others.  So, go do it!
3. So, we've talked about who you are, why you are....now comes the how.  If I'm created in the image of God and for the sake of others, how do I live that out?  You love with grace, humility, and joy.  Life will be tough, you will have to overcome many, many things with humility and grace.  And this, not so that you might be this great human being but that you might be an agent of grace and redemption in this world!  You will accomplish stuff, thank those who are a part it with you.  You will be hurt by things and people, forgive them.   Never stop learning, never stop growing, and never stop living with joy and a smile on your face!

After all, you've been made in the image of God, and that's something to rejoice about.

Love you guys, can't wait to see all God does through you.

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Almost Derailed

Just over 7 years.  That's how long I've been in Portland.  I've been giving the blessing of becoming a dad to my three amazing children.  Mandy and I have been able to buy our first house.  I've been able to coach, I've had the gift of getting to preach at camps and churches.  I've fallen in love with this community and feel so at home here.  I've gotten to go camping for the first time.  I've lost an incredible amount of weight.  It has been 7 joyous years with adventures I'll hopefully always remember.

It has also been 7 of the toughest years of my life.  As I sat in the lobby during the Global Leadership Summit last week, listening to the worship leaders from Hillsong, I was preoccupied with many different things.  As I stood next to a friend I met on the day I had moved to Portland, the realization of the different challenges and struggles came rushing in.  The ever returning question of should I find a different career was on the tip of my tongue once again.  

As I wrestled with those emotions, the verse I would share with football players and coaches the next day came flooding in.  

I opened the Word to read it again and there, in a verse I memorized back in my Bible Quizzing days, 5 words stood up with neon lights flashing around them.

...ok, not really, but you get the point.

perseverance. must. complete. its. work.

Those words staring me back in the face with the comforting assurance of a Father who would say, "I'm not finished with you yet.  Let it do its work.  Don't cut it off by taking off."

Humbled and grateful, I sat with my King.  No words said or suggested.  No writing.  No talking with the man who stood beside me.  Just me and Jesus, just being together.  As those words continued to float around in my mind and heart, I embarked on a weekend where I got to see God do some amazing things through work I had a direct role in.  I watched God use me in ways I hadn't experienced in a long time.  

Continuing to reflect on the struggle, the challenges and these 5 words; I have found myself believing that a good next step to help me continue to process and persevere would be to write, ok, type.  I won't share these on FB...not looking for a big audience.  But some of you will find this processing and you'll comment, and you'll help me process.  That will be appreciated.  In all these things I'll write, they will clearly be the perspective of one person.  In every story there are different perspectives as the sames story unfolds.  This will just be my perspective on what happened; and the resulting struggle I endured.

These are the stories and events that almost derailed me...stay tuned for the first.

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Talk Mode

"My name is Coach Eli, but you can call me Coach E!" My 7 year old bellows at the 7/8th graders I'm coaching this year.  They all laughed and have been calling him Coach E all week long.  He loves it; they love it when he is encouraging them and repeating whatever he hears the rest of us saying.

I love having him there, I'm wanting my own Remember the Titans type moment with him becoming a part of the team and coaching staff.  Half the time he runs off and just jumps on the bag, but I love having him with me.

Tonight as we were leaving, the pastor and his wife at the church whose parking lot we all use right by the park, came driving through.  I stopped and talked with them for a moment when we heard 'Coach E' behind me...

A big joke Mandy has is that she can't send me to the store for anything and expect me to return quickly.  The nature of our community is that I am going to see someone I know, and I am going to

stop and talk to them.  It's just what I do.  And, apparently, she isn't the only one who knows this.

"Dad!!  You're getting into talk mode!"  As he drags his bag and car seat behind him.  "We have to go get Dom and Mia.  You have to stop getting in talk mode!"  We looked each other, smiled, and said good-bye for now.

Thanks buddy.  Glad I've got my assistant coach with me to help me keep moving :)

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Call it a Comeback

"Lord, there are people who have curled up and died in a corner for no reason other than they lost hope.  When there is no hope, there is no life." - Thomas G. Pettepiece

You can see it on sidelines.  You can see it in hallways.  You can see it in the face of those who have been beat down.  Eyes are blank, staring into nowhere.  Shoulders sagging, as if buried under an intense weight.  I've watched coaches pace sidelines, clapping their hands, imploring their athletes to not roll over, to not quit, to not give up, to not abandon hope.  There are teachers who are looking for any kind of sign of life in their students that points towards hope.  We've all seen it, at one time or another...the signs of those without hope.

Hope, like love, is so powerful.  It can stand in the face of immense adversity and cause you to still believe; to hold on for dear life, believing that no matter the chants that come from the stands...

it.

is.

not.

all.

over.

There is a reason we all love a comeback.  We love to see a team that didn't quit.  We love to see athletes who chose to believe in hope, who in the face of a loss chose to rally together and over come the future that seemed inevitable to write a new story.  Their belief, their hope allowed them to be over-comers.  In sports, these teams often hold onto each other.  They trust each other, they cling to one another, teammates and coaches, all staring each other in the eye and saying.  We. Can. Do. This!!  And when they do...they do.

As I read Paul's letter to the Ephesians when he writes:

...that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with the fullness of God.  Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever.  Amen.

I find myself filled with hope.  We don't have the capacity to fully understand what we are capable, let alone what the Creator of all things is capable of.  That who I am becoming has not been fully revealed.  That how God is working in the life of my kids hasn't been fully comprehended.  That the place the athletes and coaches I get to do life with have not reached their final destination because God is just that big! 

Not only am I filled with hope, I am challenged to be an agent of that hope.  To do whatever it takes
for hope to become a cultural norm, not a moment that bursts forth only to be swallowed up by 'reality'.  It is time to paint a new reality, one in which hope is the norm, where setback is nothing more than an opportunity to see just what God can do.  We must allow our imaginations to run wild, to dream of a preferred future and believe in the One who can get us there.

Lord, we do not hope in ourselves, our technology, our governments, our laws, our tenacity, our courage, or our will, though these things are all necessary to conquer...We hope in you.  Amen - T.G.P.

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Familiar place

Its that old familiar place.  I've run hard,  done as much as my body, mind and heart can handle without causing me to flat out fall apart.  So I'm back in this place of just resting within the presence of the Creator and perfector. 

And I'm at peace.  No guilt at not doing it more often, no shame in my exhaustion, but thankful for the opportunities to have been used for Divine glory.  Of course, my imperfections and sin rear their heads and cry out how unworthy I am to enter into the presence of the King, but just as quickly Christ comforts and covers me in his grace and blood setting me free. 

Thankful for the ways Jesus will continue to dwell within, perfecting me and carrying me thru being used and keeping me focused while I run.  I keep saying that November is coming and rest will happen then.  Truth be told, rest will happen as I abide in Him.  So, while I run...I will abide.

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True Song

I sat there in the front pew on Friday morning; i was the only one in the church so I went ahead and wailed away on the guitar and sang.  After playing a few songs I go back to one of the first songs I learned.  April Showers by Caedmon's Call.  Why'd I learn that one?  Well, it had a tab and chords which involved picking and strumming and if I could play that song, well then people would be impressed because I could do both in one song.  As I played that song, those same thoughts re-entered my mind as I wondered if anyone would come in the church, hear me play and be impressed...

...yes, i crave praise like that...

...and that's when I heard it.  Not an audible voice, but this whisper that said.  You can't play the guitar.  Oh,
you can fake it, and you've figured out some of the tricks to play the right chords and such with some fancy palm muting and whatnot...but you really can't play the guitar.  You don't know any kind of music theory or anything and if, IF a jam session were to erupt and you were called on to play from within...you'd be without.

And as quickly as my guitar skills were humbled, so was my faith...and you better not let your faith become that either.  If you think an ability to play the 'right chords' to make the 'right sound' is music to My ears...then you don't know my song very well.

 - Do I have your heart?

I sat quiet.  humbled.  ashamed....

 - Well, do I?  Do I have your heart?

Oh, how I want You to!  Lord, I want you to take my heart!

 - That's not how this goes.  I'm not taking it.  You know that.  Do I have your heart?

Lord Jesus, yes, please!  Take it, take it, take it...

 - Would you let it go?  Do you trust me?  Do you trust me to teach you how to play my song?

Oh, to play the song of the Most High.  That the life and breath of God would flow through me as melody and harmony in perfect sync drawing all hearts to Him.  Do we do what we have to do to look like we think we should...or does He have our heart?

Here's my heart.  Make it yours.

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80

80 years.  At 33 years of age, I cannot even BEGIN to fathom what 80 years looks like.  The dramatic shifts in culture and experience alone is massive.  Today is one of my biggest hero's birthday.  80 years old.  That's crazy.

The impact this man has had in 80 years is immeasurable this side of glory.  I've heard the stories, I can actually say I sat on his knee while he told some of them.  I sat in the pew while I witnessed some of the stories, I've read the pages of the book where he has shared some of these stories...and I sit back in awe of the massiveness of Jesus in this man.

There is one human being on this earth whose words would cause me to stop exactly what i'm doing, take notice and respond (not including my wife, of course).  There is one human being who could tell me, "The Lord says..." and I'd probably not even question it.  I would do anything to be half the man he is.  I'm so thankful to be in Portland, I love my city, I never want to leave.  But one of the hardest things about being out here is that I can't sit face to face with this man all the time and ask him to teach me, disciple me.  Let me learn life from you.  I hate that my kids don't know their Pop-pop and Gigi better.

Even as I sit in this coffee shop, I wish to be sitting at his kitchen table, joining him in prayer for our family, for the church, for anyone who comes across his mind or whose face is on their fridge.  I wish to watch him love the stranger that comes across his day; no matter their race, culture, belief, or lifestyle.  I wish to hear him unfold the mysteries of Christ that my mind is to small to fathom.  Tears of thankfulness fill my eyes as I rejoice over sharing his last name.  The legacy he has given me, the opportunity to share in that legacy is beyond anything I could have ever hoped for.  His un-ending surrender to Jesus is a lesson to me each and every moment...oh if I would only listen better.

80 years, Grandpa.  Thank you for giving your life and your breath in service to our Lord.  Thank you for loving us and wrestling with us when we were so young.  Thank you for battling in ministry and with your health with grace and love.  Let's go for 80 more!

Happy Birthday!  I love you.

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Year of the Coach Day 4

What a day.  On Thursday we got into some nuts and bolts of the sharing 3D at clinics, schools, and with small groups.  We also heard from Mark Hall the presenter of the 301 material on the web-site.  He killed it.  As he unpacked more of the theology of 301 and went deeper into the "why" behind it I was encouraged and challenged.

One of the main things Mark talked about, building on Wes and Jeff, was that 3D isn't some program that you go through and then say you are finished.  Rather it is an operating system.  It is a place from which coaches are challenged to operate as a coach.  In other words it isn't just something you can grab, implement and then move on when you are finished...rather it is a dynamic process of transformation that challenges the coach to coach and 'operate' differently.  This isn't just something a coach can use as a coach and then separate from the rest of his/her life.  That spoke volumes.  My small group spent some time talking about that, reflecting on what that meant for sharing, as well as what that meant for ministry, follow-up, and more.  It also helped me to not feel like it's one more thing that I have to add to my plate, this 'program', but rather it can become my operating system throughout the entirety of ministry within FCA in Portland.

Another thing that Mark shared was the formula for change:

Change = Discontent x Vision x Next Steps > Resistance

I love this.  First, it's a reminder to slow down.  We need to put a good plan in place.  Second, there has to be a clear understanding of where we are going, of what the preferred future is.  Third, it's a reminder that there will always be resistance.  I love the discontent piece as well...a little holy discontent plays a huge role in seeing change come about.  If any of these is "0", then there is no change.  I want to see change; and if I want to see change, I have to put in the hard work of casting vision, creating discontent, and crafting the next steps...only in doing so will I be ready to overcome the resistance.

Today, we'll head home...and then it's time to get to work.

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Year of the Coach Day 3

What an adventure today was!  As you can see, we did have a little fun.  We went out to Gator land, watched a guy wrestle the gator I'm sitting on and then walked around to see the gators out in the swamp.  Some of those suckers were HUGE!!  It was a sweet night.

Yesterday we talked a TON of logistics; the how to's of presenting this at clinics and to coaches, the why's of sharing the material and then we went and saw one of our presenter's share with coaches.  It was another day of taking furious notes and dreaming and thinking about how we can put this down on paper and create a clear vision for sharing 3D Coaching with coaches across the PIL and the entire Portland Metro!

I think one of the most inspiring things from yesterday was a video that one of our presenters, Wes Simmons, shared with us.  This whole deal is set up to take a coach on a journey into becoming a 3 Dimensional Coach, to give them a vision and a plan for their future and how to run their program.  At the end of the 3D Journey, the real work begins with the crafting of a transformational purpose statement.  Wes had taken a coach on that journey and once they had reached the end, Wes went to this coach's pastor and spoke to him about having a commissioning service.  The video showed Wes, the coach, and the coach's pastors praying for him, commissioning him, and then sending him out to coach and live out that transformational purpose statement as a worker of the kingdom.

Visions of coaches commissioning services from across the metro began to flood my mind, I began to think of and dream about coaches who go to coach, knowing they have the support and backing of their family and their church to do what they do in the name of God.

Today we will get into some of the 3rd dimensional materials, and I cannot wait!

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Year of the Coach Day 2

Slow down. 

I keep repeating that phrase.

Slow.

Down.

There is so much I want to share, so much I want to type, so much I want to get back to Portland to get going on.  And I have to keep reminding myself…

Slow. Down.

Quick summary of the day.  We had an intro to 3 Dimensional Coaching this morning (including one of the module sessions), then we broke off into our small groups to discuss how to make it our own.  Then it was off to ESPN’s Wide World of Sports.  This mega complex of athletic facilities for tournaments, championships, and club team competitions in all kinds of different sports.  While there we heard from different club sport directors on ways we could look to connect with club sports as well as the way sports seem to be moving more into the club realm.  We then had dinner then and went off to Downtown Disney to relax and walk around. 

As someone who has only coached in the youth realm while serving coaches and athletes beyond that; the idea of presenting to coaches in the High School and College realms seems a bit daunting.  Who am I, what have I got to offer these guys?  Listen, I believe in this stuff, there is a solid biblical backing for everything wrapped up in 3D Coaching; but, will my voice carry any weight. Two things happened today that encouraged and affirmed me that I’d like to share with you all.

1.  One of the things we talked about is relevance.  Basically, what makes your voice relevant?  How can you connect with the coaches and disarm any prejudice they might possess about why they should or shouldn’t listen to you? So as we spoke about how we would make it our own, we had to share how we would connect.  I shared my story in sport, coaching, and working with youth as if I would as a part of the presentation; and expressed my concern with being able to be relevant and they all looked at me and sort of laughed.  “You just did it.  That was perfect.  You had me”.  Oh, ok, well then…whew…

2. Then after the panel discussion at ESPN I sat with the two main presenters.  The guy with the Doctorate in coaching and the guy who’s done the most work with 3D coaching as a staff guy.  I shared with them my excitement over the material, the potential opportunities for serving and strengthening these coaches and could hardly contain it.  I shared of how we’ve used pieces of it within our Youth Football program since I had first met the good Dr. Duke; as well as in conversations with coaches in Portland.  And the guy with the Doctorate looked at me and said, “Nick, listen, you were made for this.  You were made for this stuff.”  These two men then began to breathe life and encouragement into me; affirming my passion, affirming the vision and encouraging me to be strategic and deliberate and to….

…slow. down.

This has to be done well.  It’s too important.  It’s potential impact for transformation too great.  I’m excited for tomorrow.  We’ll get into more logistics on the clinics and then go see one of our presenters give a clinic at one of the local prep academies.  I can’t wait.  I’m taking furious notes and dreaming big dreams.  RJ, are you ready?  This 'blue guy' is feeling a little red...let's get it!

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Year of the Coach Day 1

As I sit in the lobby of this hotel in Orlando, the sun is coming through the glass atrium ceiling reminding me that I'm not at home.  And then when I get on google maps to find a nearby coffee shop and I there are only two within a 4 square mile radius; I realize, I'm REALLY not at home.  (Seriously, you have fast food joints EVERYWHERE and only two coffee shops?  And one is in the hotel?!  Step ya game up Orlando.  Ok, I'm done.)

I've got a great job, it is a blessing to get to do what I do.  As I've found myself back in the sports world, I believe more than ever that coaching is a phenomenal tool for youth development.  As I finish reading Inside-Out Coaching; i'm reminded even more of the potential impact for better or worse that coaches possess.  I've been getting tons of training lately, and that's a good thing.  A few weeks ago I was reminded of the necessity of my own growth in discipleship and will be a formative training that I need to remember to go back to often.  But this week has the potential to be the most important training I go through in my young career within FCA.

We keep hearing things about The Year of the Coach.  The emails sent out from our HQ, the words are mentioned on every conference call, and now this week is all about the coach.  It's about impacting the coach and setting them free to coach the body, mind, and heart of every athlete that comes across their field

or court.  To say I'm excited for this training would be an understatement.  In the short time I've spent as a coach, I've seen the impact.  I've seen the impact of a coach who is more concerned with his own success.  I've seen the impact of a coach who gives herself away for her athletes.  They are both equally powerful, and both are equally difficult to undo.  In our world where young athletes are DESPERATE for hope, encouragement, and an adult they can lean on; a coach holds a special place of authority that has the potential to build or destroy.  I've spoken with high school athletes, and some college athletes, who all share stories of a coach who has produced more pain than encouragement.  My heart breaks as the damage that is done is buried deep and will take a long time to work through.

Coaches, you possess power.  Uncle Ben had it right when he told Peter, "With great power, comes great responsibility."  Scripture tells us that the one who teaches will be held to a higher standard. (James 3).  I'm not sure how many of my coaching friends will read this, but to those who do...if you have a heart or a desire to impact the lives of young people...then learn a sport and get out there and coach!  I don't care if it's TBall!  I watch my 7 and 6 year old respond to their coaches praise and encouragement and I can tell you that it makes a difference!  

If you are the praying type...do me a favor, pray for this week.  Pray for this time in Orlando, pray that I'm challenged, pray that I grow, pray that my heart and mind would be an absolute sponge at what we are taught this week.  May I come back equipped, encouraged and confident in my own coaching and in what I have to share with those coaches I look up to.  Coaches, if you are reading this, I'm praying for you.  I'm praying we don't take our opportunity to serve our athletes lightly.  I'm praying for wisdom and discernment as we seek to raise up a generation of young men and women who will be good fathers, good mothers, good husbands and wives and active members of their community.


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For those who have always wanted an opportunity to be a part of what God is up to out here, there is no better time than now.  I need your help to bring this training back to the coaches of Portland.  Consider sponsoring me in our Golf Marathon Fundraiser.  My goal is $5,000, we've already raised $3,600 in pledges.  Will you join me?  Take a moment and fill out this form: Golf Marathon Sponsor.

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You have been weighed...

For some people, this will come as a surprise; maybe even a shock.  For others, eh, not so much.  In fact for those folks, they can already recognize the caked on sarcasm with which i am typing.  Because, well, they know me.  Here it comes...hope i don't shut down the interweb...

...i'm a football junkie...

There, i said it.  i'm sure if i was actually getting something off my chest, it would feel like it right now.  i'm a football junkie, and even though the Olympics are happening right now, in fact USA is playing Canada in hockey at this very moment and the two other tabs i have open on this wonderful browser are related to the NFL Combine.  That's right...the event where 20-24 year olds are paraded across a stage and field and they are weighed, measured, probed...with questions you sicko, although it might happen that other way too.  they are timed, judged, tested and checked for strength, body-fat, speed, ability and brains.  In other circles it's called a beauty pageant, and still other circles something far worse...

...i was listening to sports radio yesterday, i'm not even sure who i was listening to.  i believe it was the guy filling in for Jim Rome, mainly because I wouldn't actually listen to Rome if it was Rome. No substance.  Anyway, he was interviewing someone who attends the combine and is connected to all the scouts and officials there who are trying to figure out who they are going to target for employment.  The guy on the radio talked about how this whole show starts with a guy coming on stage in his undies and maybe socks to be weighed, measured, and examined.  No questions...yet...just to be stared at and have people write down things on their little note pads about what they see.  And the man being interviewed said, "It's weird, it's awkward, it's ugh, I don't like it.  It's just uncomfortable really. It reminds me of...well, you know..."  And he left it at that; even the host left it alone.

What does it remind you of, i was saying to the radio, tell me, SAY IT!  i kind of wish he would have continued.  Because it reminds me of a few things. First, that scene from the movie Taken where rich well dressed men are sitting behind two-way glass bidding on bikini-clad drugged young women that want to 'purchase'. Also reminds me of the pictures in my schools' history books of slaves being brought onto the auction blocks where they are bid on based on their strength and ability to make the master money.  Don't get me wrong, the NFL Combine doesn't come close to comparing to those two absolute atrocities of humanity...these dudes are hoping to get a well-paying opportunity to play a game, albeit putting their bodies on the line for our entertainment (Gladiator anyone?).  But imagine with me, you are standing in front of 100s of people, note pads flipped open, and all that stands between you and complete vulnerability is the undies you chose to wear that day.  Your arms a spread so they can see if you are genetically created and fit to participate in their multi-may i say-billion dollar industry.  Sure there is hard work and dedication that sets you a part from those who excel in the industry, but it is very rare to have someone of a certain size and stature (that they are not in control of) excel in the game.  So after you have been weighed and measured, you may just be found wanting (Knight's Tale anyone?).

What message does that display?  What does that teach us about who we are?  What if God measured us by those kinds of standards?  Who could stand?  Who could survive? Not only that, what if we as the church acted like that?  what if we as the church chose to only trust those who fit a certain 'stature'?  What if the church only accepted those who fit into a certain mold?  What if the church only promoted/championed those who had a specific genetic make-up?  What if we looked at the outside and not at what God has created and stamped with His image?

...so glad that doesn't happen...

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That Song

Eli: Dad, can you play that song?

Me: Going to have to be a bit more specific buddy.

Eli:  The dying for a thousand years song.

Me:  Yeah bud.

We love that song in our family.  I first heard the song, not on the soundtrack for the teenage sci-fi drama about those adorable vampires and werewolves...but as a part of a Welcome Home Adoption special.  I'm a fan of Christina Perri...yeah, i said it, so what; she has a great voice...and as I watched the special and the images of families formed through adoption, tears of joy rolled down my cheeks.  What joy, what words, what a story and picture it paints of the reality of so many families created through adoption.  Of the longing of the parents to give of themselves and the longing of the children to know they are beautiful and made perfectly!  It encapsulates so much of the emotion Mandy and I felt as we waited on that couch for the boys to make their way downstairs to meet these strangers; these people that their loving Foster Parents had been showing them pictures of and calling them 'Mom' and 'Dad'.  So when I played that song on repeat so much, the kids asked us why we loved it so much.

We could barely get through it as we explained and listened to the song again.  The longing described and fulfilled in song is something that I know is possessed by all of us, not just those touched by adoption.  And while we continue to teach our kids the reality of our Father and King being the true fulfillment of that longing; I'm grateful that my 5 year old recognizes, appreciates, and feels the depth of love that went into creating our family.  He truly loves this song, we'll listen to it and he'll sing it the rest of the day.  This lil man understands the power that can flow from music.

So as I made the kids breakfast, listening to some of my music...let me tell you how much i loved hearing Eli ask out of the blue to hear this song.

"It's about becoming a family, Dad.  It's about loving and adoption."

Yeah bud.

"Why does she say she is dying?"

It's a metaphor bud.  She is describing how badly she was waiting and how much love she had to share and how she believes that the one she loves is the one she was always meant to love and now that they are together they can love each other.

"Oh...


Dad, I like this song."

Me too bud.

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Ode to the Ox

"Absolutely not!" I stated.  She continued to plead, saying she really, really, REALLY, wanted a dog.  Plus, she needed a running partner, i.e. since you won't run with me, i need someone/thing to run with me.  And since we lived in a rather rough neighborhood...our neighbor at the time was definitely involved in dealing something...i was inclined to concede.  "I don't care, we aren't getting a dog."  She continued, she went into full on negotiation mode and I ended up conceding to these terms and conditions:

- had to be an adult
- had to be male
- had to be fully trained
- had to a boxer or a bulldog (not sure how she was going to run with a bulldog)
- had to be free

She agreed and I figured I was safe.  I believed my terms and conditions were stringent enough, that we would absolutely continue to be a family without a dog...

"Nick, come look at this," she called the very next day.  I went into our office and there on the computer screen was a beautiful beast of a boxer.  "We're going to see him this afternoon at 2," she said.  I've been hosed; at least, that's what I kept thinking.  And my suspicions seemed to have been confirmed as our 'going to see him' turned into 'bringing him home' that very day.  And just like that, Chance became a part of the family.

Quickly, her running partner turned into my study buddy.  But, after a run-in with a St. Bernard on a jog,
their running didn't happen as much...but every time I'd come home from class or work and sit down to read, ole Chance would curl up onto the couch and place his head on my lap and rest while I read about theories of atonement and different expressions of ecclesiology.   He was not even the slightest interested what I was reading...he was just happy to lay next to me.  That was his thing really.  He just wanted to be with us.  We'd come home and he'd bounce around the living room wagging his little nub of a tail that sent his body into this funky little shake that made us laugh.  He'd throw his full weight into my legs, almost knocking me over, while I'd pet him and scratch behind his ears.  Sometimes, when he was really in the mood, he'd jump up and wrap his front paws around my hips to give me some kind of hug.  We'd play tug-of-war all the time; it was our favorite game.  He wasn't much of a fetching dog, but he would give me one heck of a work out as we tugged on his rope together.

When it came time to leave Kansas City and make our way to Portland, we wondered how he would handle the 30 hour, 3 day move.  The answer...like-a-boss.  The dude climbed up into the U-haul, placed his head on my lap and killed it the entire way.  Turns out, taking a car ride was something the big guy loved.  Just the word 'ride' would send him into his hip shaking, tail wagging excited dance.  In fact, whenever he'd take off and run out the front door and through the neighborhood, no treat would bring him home...only the prospects of hopping in the car and going for a ride would bring him back.

Once the kids came on the scene, he'd still play tug-of-war but there was a very clear difference on how he would yank with me and with the boys.  He was very cautious and gentle with the kids.  They loved it.  They wanted him to play fetch so bad, but still not really his thing.  He wanted to play tug of war with the ball...but the kiddos weren't sticking their hands into his mouth to grab the ball out.  Whenever I'd lay on the floor with the kids, he'd lay right down next to us, making sure his body was touching somebodies...he loved being with us.  After a while we didn't play tug of war as much, but whenever I'd sit in the office he would come and lay on the office floor whether his bed was there or not.

As the years passed and he got older, he slept a lot more, but one thing never changed.  Whenever we would come home, he would still be looking out the window waiting for us.  He would still do the hip-shaking, tail-wagging bouncy dance whenever anyone came over or we would come home.  And he loved nothing more than to lay next to us, on our lap or by our feet.  I'd have to pick him up to get him in the car, but he would still look out the window for a minute before curling up on the seat to enjoy the ride.

So this morning, it was hard.  Watching him breathe his last here at home, where he would have wanted to be, was painful.  I didn't think it would affect me as much...but man.  This was hard.  I was thankful to be petting him as he passed, but picking him up to take him to the vet reduced me to a blubbering mess.  Our kids reacted in age-appropriate ways, as my wife states.  Mia couldn't figure out why everyone was crying, Eli wanted to see his bones...and then asked when he was coming back, and Dom broke down and cried in my lap with me.

They've already asked if we were going to get another dog, and of course the real answer is who knows...but one thing is for sure; there will never be a more loyal, happy, perfect dog for me and our family than Chance.  I'll miss ya, you big ox, RIP.

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Jesus the Refugee

This morning at church our Gospel reading came from Matthew Ch. 2.13-23.  As we spent time in the passage, I got stuck on this...that Jesus, as an infant, became a political refugee.  Facing certain death due to an infant genocide, Jesus was scooped up by his mother and step-dad, and they fled...for their lives.  Instantly images of the refugees out of the Sudan or Uganda began to flood my mind, as did images of the Rwandan genocide; and after briefly determining between me, myself, and I that Hotel Rwanda was Don Cheadle's best performance...I was brought back to this; here, we had Jesus the refugee.  Sure, he was still Jesus the infant-King, Jesus our Emmanuel but, he was at the same time, Jesus the refugee.  One fleeing while children on all sides were slaughtered...going to live in Egypt as a political refugee.

I tried to imagine it...I tried to picture Joseph and Mary, clutching Jesus close as they gathered what little they had brought with them and throwing it on the back of their donkey and hightailing it out of Bethlehem.  Was Joseph certain of their safe passage, because you know, an angel had told him to leave?  Or did he doubt himself as they hurriedly packed and fled?  Was Mary still resting in the Magnificat she has sung?  Was she still 'pondering these things in her heart'?  Or did her sense of security evaporate as her betrothed awoke and said, we got's to go...


...and then i was left with this...

What an amazing God-with-us.  Not only would he become an infant child, but an infant child born into a politically unstable social environment whose birth would spark a genocide and force he and his family to become refugees in a strange land.  We fret over much.  The things that cause us to question, to doubt, that leave us wondering where God is, I am chastising myself now as I think the small things I've gone through in life.  Here was my Savior, choosing this life to give my life hope, meaning, and newness...

...thanks be to God.

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Do You Remember the Time?

Wrote this a few weeks ago and wasn't able to get it posted...here it is now though!
__________

It's the most wonderful time of the year.  And no, I'm not referring to Christmas.  Next week is my Christmas.  It's called Thanksgiving.  And if I hear any Christmas music before Friday...heads will roll...sort of...

The thing I love so much about this holiday has everything to do with the marathon meals my family would have at Grandma and Grandpa's in NY.  There would barely be enough room on the table for the plates we would eat off of because there would be so much food.  And we would sit there for hours and hours.  We'd eat everything, Grandma would bring each adult male their own pie...yes, their own pie. Why only the adult males?  I don't know, probably because the women has more sense to not try and eat a whole pie.  And then, we'd bring everything back out onto the table.  We'd never leave.

We would sit around and play a little game called, Do you remember the time?  No, not the Michael Jackson Song, and it wasn't really a game...it was more of a, who can tell the best story time?  My Dad would talk about dismantling a VW Beetle with friends and getting it rebuilt in the Presidents office at his school.  My Uncle would talk about driving around town in a car with his buddies and my aunt scaring the crap out of two townies who thought they wanted to fight.  "Please, god, don't kill us." (my personal favorite).  Then my uncle and my dad would talk about playing catch in the bedroom, top bunk to bottom bunk...with my other uncle.  We'd sit around and laugh and eventually would find ways to make new stories.  We all still laugh about the time my cousin watched my dad build a mountain of food on his plate and then with fear in his eyes, wrap two arms around his own plate as if to say, please don't take mine.

These stories were wonderful, they were bonding.  I can tell half of these stories as well as they can because I've heard them over and over...they never get old.  In Joshua, after they cross the Jordan, Joshua tells the people to grab twelve stones and build an altar to God.  So they can remember.  So that whenever they pass by hear and people ask why, they can say, do you remember the time...so they can celebrate what God had done.

We need to do this.  We need to remember, we need to take the time to tell people the stories of what God has done in our lives.  Like an old army vet describing his war wounds to his grandkids, we need to describe the moments when God has shown up and saved us; when he made a way out of no way.  It's uplifting, and more than anything, it is a reminder of the greatness of God and the supremacy He has.

So, tell me, what's your story?  What is it that you remember?  What is it that God has done for you?  Finish this sentence, "Do you remember the time...

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Perfect Moment

It was one of those moment's that I'll never forget.  There are those times that God allows us to see love shared in a relationship that usually results in some kind of viral video that ends up on CNN or Facebook causing us to stop what we should be doing and watch.  We smile, we feel warm and fuzzy and are thankful that someone caught it on video.  And each of us secretly hope that some day we will get to share in a moment like that...

The other night we had our end of year youth football banquet.  I love it, I get to share of the growth in our program, i get to applaud kids who deserve it and thank those who gave so much.  I shared a story of a 3rd grader who carried his sister's bookbag around school when she had a hurt arm because, "That's what Roosevelt football players do!"  We hand out trophies and then we we hand out what we call a Rider Award.  The rider award goes to one player from each team and is chosen by their coaches to determine who they think embodies our three family values (1. Respect your coach 2. Value your teammates 3. Honor your team) and who's attitude was consistently positive.  

On this night two of our Rider Award winners missed the banquet.  One for family reasons and one because, well, they didn't know it was the banquet.  It broke my heart.  I received a voicemail from this player's father expressing his frustration (read anger) that they had missed the banquet...again.  They missed last year too...same reason.  Quite frankly, I understood completely, and was very disappointed they weren't there to celebrate with us.

So I grabbed the player's award and pictures (the dad had ordered a sweet plaque) and I went over to their house to apologize and give them their things.

We chatted for a bit, I apologized that they didn't know and then while I was there, for what ever reason, as I began to hand the player the Rider Award, I was moved to stand and share exactly what their coach had said, as if the player was receiving it in a legit ceremony.  And as I shared, holding the medal in front of me, I heard a sniff.  I kept talking and then placed the award around the players neck and said, 'You earned it.'

As I sat down I looked over at the player's father whose head was in his hands, the single sniff gave way to others as he cried tears of joy.  This player moved closer to their dad and placed their hand on his lap, he reached out and grasped it.  Then through his tears said, 

"I'm just so proud.  I'm just so proud."  The player smiled, a big smile to hear those words come from their dad.  

I sat there, silent.  Enjoying the moment the two of them were able to share together, in front of no one but me and their lil yipper dog.  God gave me an incredible opportunity to witness an awesome love.

I've been in so many talks with people lately about fatherlessness...I've been thinking about the call many coaches could accept to "re-father" some of their players...I've been thinking about my boys who's bio-dad checked out.  And as I spent the afternoon with my daughter at football practice, basketball practice and dance practice...i became so thankful for the presence of this particular dad, and the wonderful relationship he has with his Rider.

It won't be a viral video, but it is a moment that will be forever burned into my mind; challenging me to have that same depth of love for my kids and any other kids who cross my path.  

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Tired of it

I often think of this sound bite I heard about 2 years ago from David Wilkerson....take a listen, seriously...

I don't agree with David on everything, which is fine, neither of us knows it all...but anguish...having an emotion that leads towards movement, that causes us to act through the power of the Spirit, I always come back to this.  I feel like I need more of this, but I often fill every ounce of the day with noise so that I don't have time to really get to that place.  I love reading Nehemiah and his anguish fueled action is inspiring and challenging.  So I think this morning, I'll make a list, I'll be quiet and make a list of things I'm tired of...

1. I'm tired of violence.  Period.
2. Especially Gang Violence.
3. Stupid Violence.  (Isn't it all?)
4. Domestic Violence.   (Am I making that clear?)
5. I'm tired of young girls and women being treated like objects and less than others.
6. I'm tired of our desire to remain disconnected/seperate/isolated for 'self-preservation'. Read: racism, classism, denominationalism, sexism, any other -ism that causes us to stay seperate.
7. Being unhealthy.
8. An L for the Steelers. (Can't all be serious, can they?)
9. A lack of hope.
10. Selfishness.
11. Illusions of satisfaction that create more discontent.

I'm sure there are more...but that's a good start.  So tell me, what are yours...

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