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A song by Big Daddy Weave is one of my go to songs to remind me of fundamental theological truths. The song resonates with me every time I hear it.  Maybe you are better at this following Jesus thing than I am but I tend to be forgetful and slow to learn. The song  “Redeemed sums up my struggle and encourages me to know (again) that I am not alone in this battle.

Seems like all I can see was the struggle
Haunted by ghosts that lived in my past

Bound up in shackles of all my failures
Wondering how long is this gonna last

Then You look at this prisoner and say to me “son
stop fighting a fight that’s already been won”

I am redeemed, You set me free
So I’ll shake off theses heavy chains
Wipe away every stain now I’m not who I used to be
I am redeemed

• Adopted
• Redeemed
• Sealed

He chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love He predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of His will,  to the praise of his glorious grace, with which He has blessed us in the Beloved. In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace, which He lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of His will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.

Makes me feel a little better that folks who were mentored by Paul needed a refresher course in who they were. It makes me feel a lot better that Paul understood that the first thing on the list was to remind them of who they were and then address their wrong behavior. We tend to reverse that order. One more line from this wonderful song by Big Daddy Weave…

I remember oh God, You’re not done with me yet.

Praise God for that! And praise God for His amazing grace and amazing patience with this very slow learner.

I am just catching my breath from an intense and humbling finish to my television baseball career. I never imagined I would receive the volume of kind words and love from my television colleagues. Finishing a season of life and getting older caused me to be reflective.

A country oldie from Paul Overstreet nailed my feelings.

I’m seein’ my father in me
I guess that’s how it’s meant to be
And I find I’m more and more like him each day

I realized that many of the kind things said about me could have been said about my father Paul during his long career in management at Mead Paper mill in Chillicothe, Ohio. I remember how kind he was to his employees and how he always made it about them and not himself. I remember resenting when he would skip evening family time to pay his respects at the funeral home to an employee who lost a loved one. I get it now. I recalled how he was kind to waitresses and everyone he came in contact with. He would feign meanness with car salesmen to get a good deal but I suspect they saw through him.

My father taught me so much about how to treat people but he was not without his flaws. No earthly father is. But even in those flaws he taught me so much. He taught me how to say hard and important things like these.

I was wrong.
I’m sorry.
Forgive me.
I believe in you.
I love you no matter what you do.

Sometimes we butted heads. The lyrics of Overstreet’s song perfectly describe that journey.

And now lookin’ back I can recall the times we disagreed
When I could not take hold of his old fashioned ways
And the more I tried to prove him wrong
The more I proved him right
Now I know why he still stood by me
When I went through that stage

Over the years I have seen the influence of another Father in my life. My Heavenly Father has patiently shaped me through countless false starts and backward steps. When I read the comments from so many colleagues I am grateful. But I know how far I have progressed in my journey with Jesus and how far I still have to go.

If I have been patient it is because I now comprehend (somewhat) how patient my Father in Heaven has been to me. If I demonstrated grace it is because I was overwhelmed by a grace message that convinced me I was enough in Jesus and that nothing I could do would make me more loved or less loved by my Father. If I showed forgiveness it was because I have been forgiven over and over and over by God and without any score-boarding. Over many years I have seen the influence of the Father in my walk. I have so far to go but the same love, patience, grace, and forgiveness that brought me this far will take me home. Now I trust in a relationship that allows me to call God in the most intimate terms.

So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, “Abba, Father.” Romans 8:15, NLT

Abba. Papa. Daddy. Tim Keller brilliantly illustrates this access we have to our Father.

“The only person who dares wake up a king at 3:00 AM for a glass of water is a child. We have that kind of access.”

The song finishes with this line.

And I’m happy to see my father in me.

I am grateful for the influence of my earthly father. And I am looking forward to see what my Heavenly Father has for me in my next season. I hope you are trusting Abba Father in your season of life as well. There is no better place to be.

Coach W.T. Johnston taught me so much about how to triumph in adversity and how to live before you die. I would be honored if you checked out his story.

This weekend I wrap up my baseball directing journey and I have to say it feels right to finish on the last day of Globe Life Park. How old do you have to be to have directed both the opening and closing game of a major league ballpark?

Old enough to have done games in 49 different stadiums.

Old enough to have brought over one million pitches into your living room over the course of nearly 4,000 games.

Old enough to have worked with fifteen different play by play announcers.

Old enough to have covered twelve different full time and interim managers beginning with Doug Rader in 1983. By the way, he still scares me.

When you have been around that long there are bound to be some highlights. Outside of Globe Life Park that would include Nolan Ryan’s Sixth No Hitter in Oakland and his 300^th win in Milwaukee. Perhaps the most famous shot of my career was the ball off the noggin of a dazed Jose Canseco for a home run.

But this weekend is about the magnificent place my friend Mike Rhyner dubbed The Temple. So many memories will flood through my mind as I wrap it up.

Opening Day in 1994 with Van Cliburn performing the best National Anthem I have had the privilege to broadcast.

Clinching the first playoff appearance in 1996.

Rafael Palmeiro’s 500^th Home Run.

Michael Young’s 2000^th hit.

One of my biggest regrets is that my schedule did not work out to cover the 3000^th hit of my all-time favorite Ranger player Adrian Beltre.

So many great moments beautifully captured by the best production crew in television.

But my favorite memory from The Temple is intensely personal. In March of 2006 my wife Joni was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer. To survive would require a difficult and wearying year of surgery, chemotherapy, radiation, and infusion of a drug targeted to her cancer. My wife is a warrior. She never felt sorry for herself or questioned why.  Joni just asked what she needed to do to win the battle.

Fourteen months later Angie Swint of the Texas Rangers asked if Joni would throw out the first pitch for Breast Cancer Awareness Day. The Ranger’s clubhouse staff created a beautiful Ranger jersey for her with the number “1 N 8” to denote that one in eight women will be diagnosed with breast cancer during their lifetime. Joni’s message to any woman reading this is to get regular testing and be persistent if you believe something is wrong. With early detection the five-year survival rate is 96%. On that day my wife threw out the first pitch in front of dozens of friends and family in the Ballpark. I will never forget her statement that on that day she transformed from patient to survivor.

Joni threw out the first pitch to our friend Jim Sundberg.

Jim is the one with the smaller nose.

Over thirteen years later I am blessed to enter retirement with Joni at my side. Remembering that day at the Ballpark makes this grand baseball cathedral even more special. So many memories at this ballpark. Goodbye old friend. We had a good run.

Because many of you have somehow forgotten to buy my books (Shameless plug) I have made my primary living by directing sporting events. I am the faceless guy (actually I have a face, it just isn’t on camera) that selects the camera shots that you see during a televised game. For thirty-seven years I have directed Texas Rangers baseball. And all of those seasons have taught me a valuable spiritual lesson from the National Pastime. I have learned how important it is to be a good closer.

In baseball parlance the closer is the pitcher who comes into the game in the last inning to protect the lead and finish off the win. It all comes down to the closer. If he does well the collective efforts of eight position players and the pitchers that proceeded will end in triumph and celebration. If the closer fails all of that effort is wasted. There is nothing more demoralizing than playing a great game for eight innings and seeing it all blow-up in the last one. So what is the spiritual lesson learned from a baseball closer?

Closing out well is critical as a follower of Christ. I am praying and seeking to be a good closer in my faith walk with Jesus. Sadly that is not a given. Many great men of the Bible did not finish well. They allowed the efforts of many around them to end in frustration and anguish because they did not close well. The honest portrayal of human success and failing is something I love about God’s Word. It is one important aspect that makes the Bible unique and real. The Bible does not spin the failures of godly men and women. Would you write a book attempting to persuade others to adopt your beliefs and deliberately choose to detail adherents who failed miserably? The successes and failures are equally displayed. Men with great stories still managed to not close well. Examples? How about the story of Saul? How sad to hear words like this at the end of your journey.

“How foolish!” Samuel exclaimed. “You have disobeyed the command of the LORD your God. Had you obeyed, the LORD would have established your kingdom over Israel forever. But now your dynasty must end, for the LORD has sought out a man after his own heart. The LORD has already chosen him to be king over his people, for you have not obeyed the LORD’s command.” (1 Sam 13, NLT)

Or imagine when the prophet came to Eli and proclaimed this dire message. What a kick in the spiritual gut this must have been.

“Therefore, the LORD, the God of Israel, says: The terrible things you are doing cannot continue! I had promised that your branch of the tribe of Levi would always be my priests. But I will honor only those who honor me.”

I would be willing to wager (note to Spiritual Hall Monitors – a figure of speech – no actual wagering occurred) that Saul and Eli were planning on closing well. They had moments of great leadership and fellowship with God. But they couldn’t close. You know that Saul’s story ended in madness. The results for Levi’s sons were horrific. His family needed a man who could start well, stay strong, and close it out with integrity and faith.

I am nearing the end of my sports directing season. I am excited about the journey ahead with family, friends, and especially grandkids. I don’t know the length of my last inning but I am praying for one thing to be true. I want to close triumphantly. I want to finish this journey with an effort that honors the One who was willing to finish for me. Paul understood athletics. Sports can be a good metaphor for life and he knew that well. At the end of my life race there are a couple of things that could be true about how I close.

a) You were running the race so well. Who has held you back from following the truth? (Galatians 5:7, NLT)

b) I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful. And now the prize awaits me—the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me on the day of his return. And the prize is not just for me but for all who eagerly look forward to his appearing. (2 Timothy 4, NLT)

I hope that (b) reflects my finish. I am committed to this journey with Jesus. I will fall at times. But I intend to get right back up and follow Jesus. If I can remember daily the grace that has been given to me and remember who I am in Christ then I have a real hope to close out well.

Coach W.T. Johnston finished well. You can read his inspirational and uplifting story in Between the White Lines.

By late December of 2018 over five million people had watched an emotional sideline television interview with Newton, Texas High School football coach W.T. Johnston.  Now the story of this remarkable man and his heroic example of faith and courage is told in my brand-new book “Between the White Lines”.

I am especially pleased to announce that twenty percent of profits from every sale will go to the W.T. Johnston Scholarship Fund in Newton, Texas.

You can order the book now at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and other online vendors.

Getting to know W.T. Johnston changed my life. I think there is a good chance his story will change yours as well.

An anthem from my youth came on the radio today. The Youngbloods recorded “Get Together” in 1967 and it became one of the quintessential peace songs of the era.

(more…)

(Excerpted from Between the White Lines)

It is almost impossible to comprehend what it is like for a sixteen-year-old boy to run onto the Dallas Cowboys home field to play for a state championship. Kids who have played in front of a few dozen or a few hundred look at a vast sea of faces. They struggle to balance fear and exhilaration. Some teams thrive on this big stage and others wilt. The Newton Eagles always looked to one source of strength in these moments: their coach W.T. Johnston.

“There is nothing like being in the battle with these young men,” W.T. says. “One of the things I love the most about coaching is the team huddle. It is a sacred place that only I get to share with my players. No one else gets to invade that sacred space between the white lines. I always ask them to take a knee and I get down to their level. I look in their eyes and I see what is going on in their hearts and minds. Sometimes I see fear. Sometimes I see anger. Sometimes I see confidence. Sometimes I see overconfidence. When I look in their eyes I know what I need to say in that moment. I will miss that more than anything when I am done coaching.”
On this Thursday, December 21, 2017, Coach saw a team that was ready. A team that wanted to win for their coach and their community. His job today would be to keep them from getting too emotionally charged up and to focus only on the task at hand. Coach knew they had a good plan. But when you deal with high school boys you never know exactly what will happen.

The Newton community had shown up in all their purple splendor. There was no school on Thursday and Friday. Newton looked like a ghost town on Friday afternoon as everyone who could take time off hit Highway 190 to Arlington. Those who had to remain behind were glued to the broadcast of the game. Many gathered to watch on a big screen at a somewhat unlikely location—the Son Asian Bistro in Jasper. Championship day in Newton rivaled Christmas Day in anticipation and excitement.

The Newton cheerleaders were wide-eyed as they walked onto the field. The Eagle mascot ran along the sideline where Dallas Cowboy mascot Rowdy would be pumping up a hundred thousand hometown fans in just two days.
It was a surreal and magical atmosphere. The tension in the stands was palpable for the Newton fans and particularly Debbie Johnston. “You always want to win but the stakes for this game were so much higher. I knew that short of a miracle this would be W.T.’s last chance. I was a nervous wreck.” Like every other time in their relationship she knew her husband was calm. “His strength in these moments is my rock and he is the rock for the team as well.”

The teams finished their warmups and went to the locker room for the final moments before kickoff. W.T. called his team around him. The team knelt together as W.T. Johnston prayed before the Eagles took the field. They were ready to leave it all on the field for their God, town, school, coach, and one another.

With an earsplitting roar the team ran into that magnificent venue with their coach trailing behind. W.T. tried to savor the moment. This was what coaching was all about—hard work, teamwork, grinding, and mental toughness. Months of early-morning workouts in a spartan facility that would be laughed at by the big school programs. Boys becoming men in the pressure of lofty expectations. Living life in a locker room with young men and teaching them about football and life. This was what God put W.T. Johnston on this planet to do, and he was more than grateful for this moment. And if the outcome was a championship, well, that was a bonus.
W.T. walked to the sideline, the place that gave him such joy. “Between the white lines is the purest and most real place you can be. There is no black or white. No rich or poor. No conservative or liberal. It is just competition.”

He had taught his players there was another dimension inside those white lines where it was only one another.

“I taught them to find Christ inside those white lines. Jesus epitomizes the equal playing field. Paul wrote there is no Jew or Gentile. No free man or slave. We are all the same inside those theological white lines. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you don’t matter. You do.”

Johnston stopped to breathe a prayer. The moment was here. He looked up as Gunter placekicker Evan Gonzalez launched the opening kickoff. God had answered his prayer. He was here with his team. He had been given a great gift.

Click here to get your copy of Between the White Lines: Coach W.T. Johnston’s Determined Pursuit of Ultimate Victory.