The Coach

Today was an interesting day at church. To say I was tired is an understatement. I have got to set some kind of rule for myself regarding when I go to bed on Saturday nights. Being that tired just isn't fair to my family or to God. Consequently, I was almost unconscious for most of the service. I sort of felt "dreamy". At one point, our worship pastor was introducing a song and telling us, the congregation, that this was our time to lay ourselves at God's feet. To come to the alter to pray. And only a few notes into his song, people came. It was a wonderful thing to see my brothers and sisters in Christ make themselves vulnerable. Some of them I knew well and I knew exactly what they were beseeching God for. A husband went forward and hit his knees. I was almost in tears as I watched his wife come after him, almost running to embrace him while he prayed. I prayed for them, hoping that he was asking God to build their marriage into what it was "before". Then the teenager came. He was a tall, extremely handsome young man. I only know him to see him. Not much about his family but the youth group had just returned from a retreat, I was hoping he was laying himself before the Lord, committing all he is to Him. Then she came, the girl who finds herself at the alter every time it's "open". The girl who goes down front to "recommit" her life every time it's suggested. I want to run to her and put my arms around her and ask her who in her life is making her feel so insecure. The young daughter of a friend of mine rushes to her mother's side at the alter. It's the most precious thing I've ever seen. She may not even know what her mom is praying about but she knows that her mother needs someone to stand with her, to lift her prayers to heaven with her. I feel my eyes begin to well up at this point... except... my eyes are drawn to strong, powerful hands raised to the sky in the front row.

It's the coach. To be honest, I don't know this man at all. But the incredible thing is, I don't have to. Everyone knows his booming voice. Everyone knows when he's in the building. A believer on the other side of the world would recognize him as a brother in Christ just by the look on his face. Even if he's not smiling, the joy of the Lord flows from his eyes.

I have a great friend who's the pastor's secretary. I was in her office one day when the coach came in to say hello. Being there for the 10 minutes he visited was one of the best days of my life; hands down. He quoted scripture with such authority and confidence. He laughed as he shared about a discussion with a total stranger and marveled at how the Holy Spirit could lead even him to someone who needed to hear the Word of God. He loves being a child of God and you could tell that his entire being constantly praised Him. I even wonder if his blood cells cried out praises to God.

He left as joyously as he came in. The coach, according to my friend, was going through some struggles. Some things were going on at the school he coached at and it's not been easy on him. She didn't go into detail. I was floored. HE? THAT GUY? The COACH was having some serious issues? "You have got to be kidding?" I said. She smiled, she knows him far better than I. Apparently that's his "blue" demeanor.

What a challenge that man is to me. As I watched from across the sanctuary I saw a man who raised his hands to the Lord with such all-encompassing love and devotion that I wasn't sure if he was raising his hands or wrapping them around his Savior's neck. My tears and sadness for those at the alter almost immediately dried up. The coach had me laughing under my breath. Had I not caught myself, I'd have laughed out loud. I suddenly looked at those people at the alter and realized that all of them, regardless of what they were beseeching God for, if they truly understood who God is, would soon be sitting with the coach on the front row lifting their hands high to their Holy, Heavenly Father. They too would realize that in spite of their heavy hearts, their Father was right there with them lightening their load.