How A High School Football Coach Taught Me To Live Before I Die 

At some point in our journey most people start thinking about leaving a legacy. For some the idea of leaving a legacy means accumulating wealth or property to give to the next generation. A family business can be a legacy that keeps a memory alive through the years. Prestige and power can be thought of as a legacy. In the winter of 2017 I became friends with Newton Texas high school football Coach W.T. Johnston. His story of courage and faith became the basis of my book “Between the White Lines“. For eighteen months the Johnston family embedded me in their lives and shared their story with unvarnished honesty. I had no idea how much that project and that relationship would influence me. I had thought now and then about my legacy. I had always factored my accomplishments into legacy. I had a long and satisfying television directing career. I was fortunate to win a few awards. But the fact is that
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My Biggest Mistake?

Years ago I wrote a book with the provocative title of “When Bad Christians Happen to Good People”. In that book I was incredibly candid about the damage that Christians often do in the name of Jesus. I expected to get roasted for my candor about my faith. For the most part that didn’t happen. Perhaps those who most needed to read it didn’t recognize their need to read it. A couple of fans of one heretical televangelist decided I was on the express train to hell. Who knew they could read? I took the most heat for a chapter where I cleverly (I thought) tried to use a political situation to make a spiritual point. Bad idea. I mean a bad idea along the lines of tank tops for middle-aged men and Spandex for almost everyone.  I learned my lesson.  I regret the political references I made in that book. I was able to revise and replace those words in a later
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How God Sees Me Is Hard To Accept

Perhaps it was my early church teaching that causes me to struggle with the concept that God loves me. I believe He can love others. I believe He loves the homeless person on the street and the struggling inner-city mom trying to hold her family together. But I am less sure that He always loves me. I know me. I know what lies hidden in my heart. I know my reactions. I know my thoughts. God knows all of that too. So in the sad and difficult moments I wonder how He could possibly love me. Perhaps that is your struggle as well. Philip Yancey wrote these thoughts in What’s So Amazing About Grace. “Sociologists have a theory of the looking-glass self: you become what the most important person in your life (wife, father, boss, etc.) thinks you are. How would my life change if I truly believed the Bible’s astounding words about God’s love for me, if I looked
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Jesus Will Meet You There

Being in community with others means you share in their joys and their sorrows. Sometimes the sorrows come in tsunami waves and all you can do is care, pray, and be present. Good and decent people deal with financial, emotional, and physical suffering all around us and it is easy to lose heart. The news seems to be only tragedy and heartbreaking sadness. What can be redeemed of all of this suffering? A song called “The Hurt and the Healer” by MercyMe resonated when I first heard it but now that same song touches my heart even more. The lyrics ask the question we all struggle with. Why?The question that is never far awayThe healing doesn’t come from the explainedJesus please don’t let this go in vain I can’t explain why things happen. Sometimes it is sin. Sometimes it is simply life. I have learned in my years of following Jesus that He does not let suffering go in vain. I have seen over
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One Of The Worst Days Ever

There is much written about Good Friday. The sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the Cross is incomprehensible to my puny human intellect. There is much written about Easter Sunday. Christians around the world rejoice and proclaim that “He is risen!”. But there is not nearly as much written about one of the saddest and most confusing days in history. The Saturday between the Friday horror of Jesus on the Cross and the Sunday mystery of the resurrection. Some churches do observe Holy Saturday but it was never a tradition in my faith upbringing. I have been thinking about what that day must have been like for those who dropped everything to follow Jesus. How crushing those events had to be. I imagine the fear they felt that they would also be killed. And for what? On Saturday they feared they had given their careers and their very souls for a false hope. I think in particular of Peter. I identify
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Surviving the Storms of Life

Real growth in relationships, faith, and maturity usually doesn’t just happen. It is so simple to blame circumstances or others for our mistakes. Rationalizations for wrong behaviors are frighteningly easy.  “Officer, I didn’t mean to speed and break the law. I was just going with the flow of traffic.” Think about that. My defense is that everybody else is breaking the law. Therefore, I am innocent.  Since the Garden if Eden the automatic answer to sin and shortcomings is that it is someone else’s fault. That may be true at times. But that thinking will never result in becoming like Jesus. So I have to be intentional about confronting my own heart. Change is hard. Sharing my need to change with others is even harder.  Several years ago I took the risk to trust three men with everything about me. We call ourselves the Redwood Brothers based on a unique characteristic of California’s redwood trees. A redwood alone in a
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Hope Springs Eternal

For thirty-seven years I spent Baseball’s Opening Day as a television director for Texas Rangers broadcasts. It still seems a bit odd to witness this day from a rocking chair at the old director’s home. I feel like I am just behind Lou Gehrig as the “luckiest man on the face of the earth” to have been able to do that for so many years. No matter what your vantage point might be there is no more special day in sports than Opening Day in baseball. It is an annual rite of Spring to post this article on the magic of Opening Day. The base lines painstakingly and perfectly defined by a grounds crew that is committed to perfection on this day. Red, white, and blue bunting give the ball park a festive World Series look. The players bounce around like little boys. They seem a little extra grateful that they are paid to play a kid’s game. The hot
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