Coached for Life

Coached for Life

In the middle of a business meeting today, some comments brought to memory and took me back to my glory days on the football gridiron.  I previously made mention of another important lesson I learned while playing high school football in a different post, The Triumph of Defeat, but this message is about something altogether different.

Today, my message is about my relationship with a man who helped shape my life in countless ways, and who will always be a legend in my mind - My former High School football coach.

Football took me on a journey, to say the least.  When I first started playing grid-kid football in the 4^th and 5^th grade, I actually played Quarterback and linebacker.

4th Grade, First year playing football

That might come as a surprise to some, but in one game in 5^th grade while playing for a team in rural Menan, Idaho, I was the only player to score any points in the entire game… for either team, in what ended up being a 32-0 win.

5th grade football picture (with my dog photobombing)

After moving to the Rexburg area, I played my 6^th-8^th grade years playing fullback and linebacker.

7th Grade football team - many of these guys played with me all the way through high school

But, as sometimes happens, puberty kicked in, combined with a terrible bout of Bronchitis which rendered me sedentary for several months and caused me to miss my sophomore year due to transitory Asthma. As a result, going into my junior year I found that I had unexpectedly grown myself into an offensive lineman.

Our head coach at Madison High School was Preston Haley, and coincidentally, he was also the offensive and defensive line coach, which meant that during positional drills in practice each day, I spent a good amount of time under his watchful and demanding tutelage.

Each afternoon brought a gauntlet of arduous drills: driving a heavy blocking sled until our legs felt like jello, foot and hand movement coordination exercises, mano-a-mano gladiator blocking battles, and countless other calisthenics which I felt sure Coach Haley had conjured up for us while studying from some ancient medieval torture manuals.

As happens with most teenagers still trying to find out who they actually are and what is really going on in life, I was probably pretty self-centered and overly self-conscious. So whenever Coach Haley called me out for a lackluster effort or a missed blocking assignment, I wondered if perhaps he had it out for me.

During one particular game, while playing a bigger school from a division above our own, I had the assignment as the left guard, to pull around the right end on a designed reverse play. The play worked perfectly, and as I pulled around into the open field with the receiver close behind me running up the sideline, there was only one defender who hadn’t fallen for the fake.  All I had to do was block or interfere with the smaller defensive back enough to allow our speedy receiver to sprint past towards what was a certain touchdown.

But as I planted my cleat in the wet turf to make the block, I slipped a bit and stumbled at the defenders knees, allowing him to recover enough to make the tackle.  As I pushed up from grass, already feeling miserable for missing the block, I looked up at our sideline only a few feet away, and to my horror, was right at the feet of a clearly frustrated Coach Haley!

“You’ve got to make that block!” He bellowed.

To say I was embarrassed would be an understatement.  I felt as if I had let not only the entire team down, but also all of the fans who had come to watch the game.  Luckily, we went on to win that game.  But the next Monday in practice, Coach Haley still remembered.

During positional drills he set up that play and made me run that pulling blocking assignment at least a dozen times in a row until both he and I were convinced that I would never miss that block again.

It was during times like that, as an insecure teenager, that I sometimes wondered why I was playing football.  Why was I subjecting myself to the grueling practices?  Why was it really so important to be able to perform the blocking sequence of “Step. Explode. Drive!” relentlessly over and over again?  When I woke up in the mornings only to discover new bruises and deep aching muscles that I never knew existed, was it really all worth it?

Sometimes I wondered about such things and questioned my commitment during those dog days of practice.  But all of the sweat, blood and tears, along with the tough, demanding and ever-present gaze of Coach Haley lead to one thing… Winning!

During the 4 years from 9^th – 12^th grade, my class of football athletes only lost one game and won 3 consecutive State Championships.

1984 State Championship Team - (So many good memories with the men in this picture)

Coach Haley demanded intense effort and execution each and every day at practice, and sometimes, as in my case, we didn’t always appreciate it in the heat of the moment.  But when game time came around, and we were dominating our opponents in front of cheering fans in the stands, the thrill and sweet taste of victory swallowed up all the pain of the practice fields.

The timeless lessons about life which Coach Haley invested countless hours ingraining into a scrappy bunch of teenagers have surely rippled out throughout the lives of every young man he interacted with.  What could have easily been mistaken for harsh, judgmental correction, was actually motivated by a desire to instill into a bunch of impressionable adolescents a vastly important lesson… To improve and achieve success, it takes effort… consistent, persistent and refining effort over and over again.  But also the realization that the effort is worth it!

Winning on the football gridiron, at your job, or within the walls of your home with your family all take effort.  Surely we will make mistakes and occasionally “miss an important blocking assignment” along the way.  But that doesn’t mean that you are going to be benched, or that you can’t pick yourself back up, dust yourself off, and try again, and again, and again until you get it right.  It just takes effort and a willingness to receive some coaching, and give it your all.

What Preston Haley helped me realize is that having someone around who cares enough to correct you when you make a mistake is important.  It might feel a bit awkward or uneasy at the time, but most people around us actually want us to succeed and be a winner in life.  So we need to take corrective advice and suggestions from our parents, friends, co-workers, etc… for what they are - An opportunity to improve and become better, so we aren’t doomed to repeat those same mistakes over and over again.

As hard as those embarrassing and challenging moments were in the moment, they helped shape me into the man I am today.  Instead of hating Coach Haley for his “tough love”, we learned from, deeply respected and were willing to walk through fire for him and strive to improve and become better… and that is what made him and us all winners!

Newspaper clipping of us celebrating our State Championship victory
(that's me yelling right behind #32 & #75, my good friends Troy Hastings and Rod Jones, and my future brother-in-law Derek Jensen is #45 on the far left)

And that is the way our relationship may often feel with our Heavenly Father.  Although He has a profound love and compassion for us, He also desires us to improve and become better in every way of life… and sometimes that means asking more of us.  To become more kind and forgiving, even when it is hard.  To have to work, struggle and reach to find the spiritual and temporal answers we seek.  It’s not because He doesn’t want to give us those blessings, but because He wants us to be changed in the process.  And that process takes practice and repetition to ingrain those reactions into the very fiber of our souls, so that when those “game time” moments in life come, we will be able to rise to the occasion and be victorious because of the opportunities He has already provided us to practice those skills in our daily lives.

So here is a shout out to all the amazing “Coaches” in our lives, who care enough to help us become better!  We are ALL worth the effort!

Coach Haley, Myself, and a former teammate, Derek Jensen, who became my brother-in-law at a football game in 2015 in which Coach Haley was honored during the halftime ceremony.  He will always be a legend in my mind!
(His dear wife Mary is standing behind us in the background)

Enveloped and Embraced

Enveloped and Embraced

A few days ago, I happened to have a few days off work, and because of some car trouble, we weren’t able to make a long road trip to visit some of our kids for the weekend.  But after a long hard day of doing some much needed fall clean-up work in the yard, my wife came up with the brilliant idea that at least we could take a shorter trip to a nearby Hot Springs for a relaxing time together.

It was cool and rainy, and after a long, hard day of yard work the prior day, a warm soak in a mineral hot springs seemed just like the ticket to recovery.  It was still early in the morning when we arrived, and it wasn’t very crowded yet, so I decided to just find a remote area of one of the soaking pools to just relax and meditate for a few minutes.

As I closed my eyes, and tried to clear my mind of my worries, it soon became apparent that there was more noise and distractions than I had anticipated:  The pattering of the rain on the canopy above me, and on the open water nearby, splashes and conversations of other visitors in other areas of the pools, cars and semi-trucks rumbling by on the highway nearby, and countless other interferences were still bombarding my senses.  I momentarily felt myself wishing I just had the place all to myself for a period of time.

In this temporary state of diversion, while focusing on trying to block out everything around me, the profound thought suddenly hit me, that despite all of these commotions, I had almost neglected to realize that I was still completely surrounded by the warm, enveloping embrace of the hot springs.

Taking a moment to instead concentrate on how wonderfully those mineral waters felt, I quickly felt the tension and stress begin to leave me.  And when I opened my eyes, instead of seeing or noticing all of the distractions, I noticed how peaceful my surrounding actually were:  The steam rising gently upward through the cool downfall of rain, the beautiful landscaping of the rocks and bushes around me.

The mountain hillsides rising upward with a full display of fall colors.

And most importantly, my wonderful wife was right there beside me to enjoy the experience with me!

In this life, ALL of it is part of the experience.  There are countless interruptions, noises and the rainy days of life that threaten to distract and disrupt us from the plans we may have for ourselves.  And if we focus solely on those things, then we will come to think that our experience is one of only frustration.

But through all of these experiences, if we pause to notice it, there is actually the constant, warm and loving embrace of Heaven, which literally surrounds us at all times.

It is simply just always there whether we recognize it or not.  But when we shift our perspective to focus upon that enveloping embrace, we begin instead to see the beauty of all that surrounds us.

And that perspective and realization makes all the difference in what we experience!

“Wherever we are in life, there are times when all of us have challenges and struggles. Although they are different for each, they are common to all.  …Heavenly Father loves you—each of you. That love never changes. It is not influenced by your appearance, by your possessions, or by the amount of money you have in your bank account. It is not changed by your talents and abilities. It is simply there. It is there for you when you are sad or happy, discouraged or hopeful. God’s love is there for you whether or not you feel you deserve love. It is simply always there.” – President Thomas S. Monson

The Progression of Reality

The Progression of Reality

I felt prompted today to write of and experience I had in the Rexburg, Idaho temple sometime in the fall of 2015.

As I usually try to do, I had been preparing myself throughout the day prior to attending, so as to invite the Spirit prayerfully into my heart and be open to learn and be instructed during my time in the temple.  I also arrived early before the session, so I could have time to sit in the chapel area and pray and prepare myself before the session started.

As myself and the other patrons were eventually led by the officiators into the first room, representing the world in which we now live, I found myself seated next to a young man who appeared to be in his early to mid-20s, most likely a college student from BYU-Idaho.  He was trim, with blond hair and glasses, but I noticed almost immediately that he was chewing some bubble gum.  As the lights dimmed and the movie presentation began, he began to chew on his gum more vigorously, and also began quietly, but consistently blowing small bubbles of gum, then pull the bubble of gum back into his mouth with a muffled “pop” and then begin earnestly chewing and repeating the process over again.  As the session progressed, he also began to nervously bounce his foot up and down, first one leg, then another.

I have to admit, that I was quite distracted throughout the session, and as our time in the first room progressed, I found myself getting annoyed, frustrated and focused upon him rather than paying attention to what was being taught.  But I didn’t say anything, not wanting to add to any of the distraction for the other patrons, but in my heart I was passing judgment on his behaviors as being inappropriate for the environment of the temple.  After all, his behaviors were detracting and preventing me from having the temple experience I was personally seeking after.

As the ordinance progressed the time approached for us to move to the next room, and while walking into the brighter and lighter space, I determined that I was going to try to quit paying attention to the young man, and instead try to more fully focus on the ordinance itself.  After all, I had been preparing myself all day to come to the temple, not only to do some ordinance work for one of my ancestors, but to also be instructed by the Lord with what He wanted me to learn that day.  The young man sat next to me, and his behaviors still continued, but I was more successful in feeling the Spirit as I blocked out much of the distraction and focused on the sacredness of the experience and looking forward to progressing towards what was still to come.

Later, once in the Celestial room, representative of passing into Heaven, I breathed a sigh of relief and finally put all of my previous thoughts and frustrations aside and spent a few moments in prayer, asking the Lord to open my eyes and help me be open to anything He might want to teach me.  After a few moments I felt prompted to open my eyes.

As I looked up, I almost instantly noticed the fidgeting young man seated a short way across the room.  His eyes were closed, his feet planted on the floor evenly in front of him, his back upright but his head bowed.  His hands were placed out on top of his thighs but struggled to stay still as they grasped and then released the fabric of his pants.  But it was the agony on his face that struck me the most.  His features were contorted in frustration, and as my eyes and heart were suddenly opened by the Spirit, I realized how hard he was fighting just to try to stay still and pray… but his body would not let him do so.

My heart instantly became changed as I realized for the first time, that this young man must suffer from some type of disorder that made it almost impossible for him to hold still.  I considered that with such a condition, what a monumental effort of faith it must take to have to force yourself to sit in one place for nearly two hours of an endowment session.  Now, having endured through it all, he simply wanted to find a few moments of relief in the Celestial room, and be able to pray in peace and stillness to his Heavenly Father… but it was a bitter fight against his fidgeting flesh to do so.

My heart reach out towards this young man and up towards heaven in his behalf.  Now, rather than judgement, I had a glimpse of understanding and my soul welled up instead with compassion and pleading for him that he could find a least a few moments of the stillness and peace he so desperately sought after in this holy place.

Looking around the room, I quickly noticed other patrons in prayer and contemplation.  One man sat off in the corner, bent forward with his elbows upon his knees and his hands clasped earnestly together.  His brow was knit with concern and his mouth silently opened and closed in a fervent and heartfelt prayer that only Heaven could hear.  I pondered over who he might be praying for with such energy and conviction, perhaps a wayward prodigal child?  Or maybe a loved one suffering from a significant health condition?  Perhaps a wife who was struggling with her testimony?  I did not know, but it was evident that his emotions were of such depth that certainly a loving Heavenly Father could not help but hear and understand the feelings of this man’s soul.

With my eyes opened in such a manner, I realized that all the patrons in the room were quietly facing their own personal situations, seeking for answers, peace and comfort that could not be found in the world outside.  But in faith, they were all here with me.  I closed my eyes and the nature of my prayer changed, not to seeking that the Lord would answer my own selfish, personal prayers and petitions, but that He would accept some small measure of my faith and instead grant the struggling souls of those around me with the desires that they were righteously seeking for.

Suddenly, the Spirit shifted my focus from the others back to myself, and I realized that what I had come seeking in my own journey to the temple had been provided and answered all along.  I had come to seek for the further light and understanding that the Lord wanted me to know… and it had been granted.

In the Telestial environment, representative of the world in which we live, I had been easily distracted by the things around me, and was quick to pass judgement and lose focus on the things of greater importance.  My eyes and understanding were veiled to some degree and with my attention diverted away from the Lord, I had passed through much of the experience missing what was being taught by ordinance itself.  I was too concerned and judgmental about others, who seemed to be interfering with what I thought should be happening for my own benefit.

As I shifting my focus more towards the Lord and less on the temporal distractions around me, I was led into a room of more light and taught about a higher degree of consecration and commitment to do God’s will, and those things which had bothered me before were of far less importance to what I was experiencing previously.

Finally, advancing to a Celestial environment, my eyes were finally opened and I was allowed to see things more as they really are.  My attention was shifted not away from those around me, but instead I was directed to look back upon them, but with eyes that now saw and understood more from God’s perspective.  Rather than judgement, I was moved with compassion and sought for their welfare rather than my own selfish desires… and by having that shift in focus, I finally received and was taught through the Spirit, the great and profound lesson the Lord wanted to teach me, and what I needed to come and find that day for myself.

I realize from this experience, that the goal in life, and part of the purpose of the temple, is to not only teach us about the great blessings which are waiting to be claimed after we pass through the veil of mortality and into the heavens beyond, but is instead to teach us how to see with progressively more light.  In that revealing light we can focus more intently upon the Lord, become less distracted and frustrated by those around us, and  be able to see things… right here and right now in our present living situation… from a more heavenly vantage point.  In doing so, we are able to see others and life around us more in the way the Savior sees them, and shift our focus away from our own personal desires, instead to doing the will of the Father and lifting, praying for and helping those around us through their own struggles and challenges.

With this higher form of living and seeing and serving, I believe we don’t have to wait to pass through the veil to the other side, but instead will invite more of Heaven into our own hearts each and every day along the way.

As C.S. Lewis wrote: “Earth, I think, will not be found by anyone to be in the end a very distinct place. I think earth, if chosen instead of Heaven, will turn out to have been, all along, only a region in hell:  and earth, if put second to Heaven, to have been from the beginning a part of Heaven itself.”

SPROUTING WINGS

I remember once when I was a young boy of about 5-6 years old, I had an extremely vivid dream during which I found myself able to fly around like Superman.  In this dream I was flying above the town in which I lived, buzzing over my house and around my neighborhood, while all the neighbor kids were jealously looking up and cheering at me.

It was such a feeling of complete joy and exhilaration to be able to swoop and soar at will with complete control over the laws and effects of gravity and the world below me, that when I eventually awoke from this dream and came to the sad realization that I couldn’t really fly… I sobbed into my pillow for quite some time.

I also remember going to Sunday school as a young boy and being surprised when my teacher told me that the angels mentioned in the scriptures don’t really have wings.  I was baffled wondering “how would they be able to fly around, protect us and do what God wanted them to do if they don’t have wings?”

While this was confusing to me as a child, I later learned about how the Lord uses symbolism to teach certain principles or doctrines, and that sometimes things are figurative in their meaning.  I have also discovered that when the Lord speaks in the scriptures, the meaning of what He says is usually masterfully layered, so that over time and depending on the Spirit with which we read them, the same words or verses can open up to new and different levels of understanding.

Just this past week, as I happened to be studying in Isaiah I came across verse 2 of chapter 6, in which it mentions that Isaiah saw seraphim, “each one had six wings; with twain he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly.”

This once again caused me to ponder over the possible meaning of these “wings”, so I did a little looking and came to find out that the original Hebrew word for wings is “kenapayim” which can also be translated as "veil" or “refuge.”  Some scholars suggest this may refer to a "protective field" or form of energy field which allows God’s angels to move about with power and also conceal or manifest themselves at will.

This got me thinking of how the Lord, in several instances, describes himself “as a hen gathereth her chicks under her wings" (in a protective, veiling and concealing manner) "but ye would not".

In this world of fluctuating moral standards, shifting political landscapes, uncertain economic futures, and general unpredictability, we probably all find ourselves at times, running around like a scared Chicken Little, wondering when the sky is going to fall on our heads.

If we could only allow ourselves to more fully trust in and come unto Him, instead of running about like a bunch of scared chicks trying to do things in our own feeble way, we could be enveloped in His protective “wings” (power, energy and refuge) and be thus more empowered to move about in our lives with the ability to do His will (like his angels) as well as be veiled and protected from the influence of the world and the adversary.

“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.” Isaiah 40:31

Lord, give us "wings" so that we might fly!

I’m sure that once we are able to gain those kind of wings, it will be much more exhilarating and fulfilling than the fleeting flight of my childish dreams.

Night Terrors – Why God lets us find our way to the Light

I am generally a pretty good sleeper.  In fact, the problem usually comes in the waking up department.  But as time has gone on and the years have accumulated, my bladder seems to be helping me wake up at a decent hour whether I am ready or not.  But getting a good, consistent, restful night sleep hasn’t always been the case.

            Back when I was a graduate student, our second son who was between 2-3 years old at the time, suffered from what came to be known as “night terrors.”  For some unknown reason, about 3 to 4 nights a week, he would wake up screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night.  At first this was extremely disturbing, as his cries were literally blood-curdling, as if he was being tortured, or subjected to the worst horrors imaginable.

            My wife and I would be jolted out of a sound slumber, which after a long day of graduate studies was a prized possession, to what sounded like the boogie man had come out from under our son’s bed or closet to torment him.  During those first few episodes, my heart would suddenly be pounding as my parental instincts kicked in, and the adrenaline began pumping, and I would jump out of bed ready to fight to the death with whoever or whatever was in our apartment attacking my son.

We would get him out of bed, inspect him for signs of trauma, wondering if he had been bitten by some spider or something, but never finding anything.  His eyes would be open, completely wide-eyed, but glazed over as if he were lost in another terrifying dimension.  We would hold him, hug him, speak soothing words to him and try to get him to calm down as he thrashed around like a wild-man.  As a father, I have never felt so helpless as during those moments, when it seemed that there was nothing I could do to help ease what fictitious events were going on his mind.  There was no enemy to defend him from, and our efforts to calm him would allow him to drift back off to fitful sleep, only to awaken both him and us 20-30 minutes later to the same terrified cries once again.  When we would awaken exhausted the next morning after little sleep, our son would be happy and fine, and have absolutely no recollection of any bad dreams or being up with us at all.

We took him to doctors, who examined and tested him, and diagnosed him with what they called, “Night Terrors”, which they explained were not extremely uncommon among children and even in more rare cases among some adults.  It is a condition similar to a nightmare, but magnified with great intensity and depth, and often accompanied with physical thrashing and/or sleep walking.  The doctors were sympathetic, but pretty much told us to just deal with it and eventually he would “probably” grow out of it.

As the sleepless night accumulated over time, they began to take their toll, as all of our efforts to try and make him wake up and come out of his trance-like states, only led to prolonged and repeated episodes throughout those particular nights.  I can only imagine what our neighbors through the apartment walls must have thought we were doing to our children, and looking back, am surprised we weren’t turned in to child protective services to be investigated for abuse, as I’m sure it sounded like we were conducting pagan rituals on our children.

One night, as another episode drug my wife and I wearily out of bed, I carried him down the stairs of our townhouse apartment and feeling too tired to try to hold and deal with his thrashings, just laid him down on the carpet in the middle of the living room, sat next to my wife on the couch and decided to just let him deal with it.  He went through his normal twisting contortions and ear-splitting screams for several minutes, and even got up and staggered around, all the time with his eyes wide open and filled with that terrified, glazed over, haunted look.

But then something happened…. All of the sudden he quit walking and thrashing around, stopped where he was standing in the middle of the floor, his eyes focused on my wife and I, he looked around as if he was thinking, ‘what are you  doing up in the middle of the night?’ and he said, “I’m tired and want to go to bed.”  My wife and I looked at each other in surprise, got him a drink of water and he walked himself back up the stairs to his bedroom and then he fell quickly back asleep, and slept well through the remainder of the evening without another episode.

These episodes still occurred randomly over the next year or so, but mercifully gradually tapered off in their intensity and frequency.  All of our initial attempts, although done out of care and loving concern, had been focused on physically trying to comfort him and forcefully wake him up from his delusional states, only to have him experience the horrible episodes over and over again throughout the night. What we realized was, that if we just kept our distance and made sure he didn’t severely injury himself, he would eventually come to his senses, wake up and realize that he wanted to be back in his bed where it was more comfortable and he could rest.

Somehow, we all survived those many long nights, and eventually (Hallelujah!!!) he quit having the night terrors all together.  Today, as something sparked those memories in my brain, I also had a realization of how those experiences mirror much about how our loving Heavenly Father reacts to our troubles in life.

In the scriptures, the apostle Paul taught that in this life, “We see through a glass darkly” (1 Corinthians 13:12).

Much like our young son, we often walk about with glazed eyes, clouded over by our worldly cares and concerns which haunt our thoughts and distort our perception of the reality and true purpose of why we are experiencing the things we are going through.

This mortal journey is fraught with countless experiences which cause us grief, heartache, sorrow, and unfortunately sometimes even encounters with true wickedness and evil which inflict their terrors upon us.  Our wise Heavenly Father, although He cares for us with an unending love and compassion, realizes that if He were to immediately step in and try to forcefully fix every trauma that came our way, we would likely not come to a realization of our situation for ourselves, (and much like our son re-living his terrors over and over) we would very likely end up repeating the same mistakes and heartache over and over again… much like a bad nightmare.

Instead, He knows that if he watches over us from a distance, and provides enough support to make sure we don’t inure ourselves too badly, that eventually we will “awake” from our situation, and realize that we don’t really like where things have taken us.  Once we come to an awareness of things as they really are, and can shed the irrationality of our earthly concerns and worries, we are able to choose, by our own volition, to walk to higher spiritual ground where His peace and rest await us.

Too often in life, we want to cry out towards the Heavens, through our glazed over spiritual eyes, and wonder why, if Heavenly Father love us, does He seem to stand back and let us struggle and thrash around without providing a means of deliverance for us from the unpleasantness of our situations.  But in reality, He knows from vast and perfect experience, that the only way we can truly find the comfort and lasting peace He has to offer us, is through allowing us to come to our senses and choose to take ourselves out of those feelings and situations.  Once we use our agency and come to terms with those realities around us, then He can truly change us into what He knows we have the potential to become.

As I mentioned, our son was able to eventually grow out of those horrible childhood night terrors, and has gone on to live a normal, successful and wonderful life and has even married and become a father of his own children.

Much in the same way, if we can awaken from our spiritual slumbers, we can choose to grow out of our own self-imposed “night terrors” and with the Lord’s divine guidance, walk along His path to something better… even progressing to become like Him!

“When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.” – (1 Corinthians 13:11)

The Triumph of Defeat

The Triumph of Defeat

A few mornings ago, actually while I was in the midst of my morning prayers, I had a memory come into my mind from nearly 32 years ago.  It was from the fall of 1984 during a football practice on the Monday of the week leading up to the first game of my senior year of High School football.

I had worked extremely hard during the off season to come into fall camp in the best shape of my life, with the hopes that I would be the starting Center of the offensive line as the Madison High School Bobcat football team began its season.

The football team had just won two consecutive undefeated state titles the previous two years, and expectations were high as an experienced group of seniors led another talented team onto the fall gridiron.

We were led by a wonderful coach, Preston Haley, who somehow knew how to turn boys into men, pull every ounce of talent out of a bunch of scrappy farm boys, and then somehow even get a little bit more beyond that.

After two weeks of fall camp I was feeling comfortable in the starting spot at the center position… or so I thought.

We had 6 experienced senior offensive lineman, but only 5 starting spots.

Me in the back left corner

The biggest battle was raging between the two guys at the left tackle position, Darren Klingler and Dean Struhs. As we entered the final week of practice before our first game of the season, Dean had fallen into the 2^nd spot behind Darren at that position going into the first game.  Determined to play, Dean talked to the coach and decided to challenge me for my spot at center.

It was announced before practice that day, and Coach Haley set up a series of physical skills against each other, culminating in a one on one blocking drill to see who could best the other and win the starting spot. Such a challenge could be issued on the Monday of any week, but only on that Monday, so the starters could practice together during the remainder of the team drills leading up to the game each Friday night.

I had one small problem going against me… Dean was bigger than I was.

(Me center, Dean on the upper right)

As the battle raged on I was determined to not lose the position I had worked so long and hard to win during the entire off season.  After a lengthy, grueling series of gladiator-like battles, both of us were beginning to fatigue.  Suddenly, one of my feet slipped, and I went down… and in an instant, Dean Struhs moved into the starting center spot going into the first game at the end of the week.

I was devastated, crushed, and needless to say, pretty upset at Dean for taking the spot I thought I had rightfully earned through so much effort leading up to that point.  Relegated to practicing with the second string that day, a searing anger began to burn within me, and I told Dean he better not get comfortable there, because I was going to win that spot back from him the following week.  But in my broken heart, I had doubt if I could do it.

Sensing the situation, and realizing that the hard feelings could be detrimental to our team effort that year, a wise Coach Haley and one of our senior team Captains, Stuart Cardon asked me to come into the office after practice that day.  Stuart was the smallest of our lineman and played at the left guard position, between center and tackle.  He was a tough kid and in addition to being the starting left guard that year, he was also the starting middle linebacker on the defensive side of the ball.  They suggested that for the betterment of the team, that Stuart would like to give up his left guard position to me, so that he could save his energy more for the defensive side of the ball, and that since I had good mobility for a lineman, that I would be able to fit the pulling guard spot better than Dean could.

I was still upset, and had been determined in my mind to want to stay at center, but as they talked to me, it just felt right… and I really wanted to start in that first game of my senior season, so I agreed.

Switching to left guard was the best decision I could have ever made.  I found that I loved the blocking assignments of that position so much better than at the center spot.  There was nothing better than pulling down the line on a trap play and plowing into an unsuspecting opponent to clear the hole for one of our talented running backs, or to pull around the end on a sweep play and come up against a much smaller defensive back that I could physically dominate to clear the way for a speedy tailback to sprint towards the end zone.

Our team went on that year to win our 3^rd straight state championship title.

That year was the best of my football career, and I played alongside Dean as a trusted teammate instead of a bitter or defeated rival.  After the season I even received a scholarship offer to play for Snow College, a Junior college in Utah.

Life took me on different path to a church mission, and I fell in love with my wonderful wife, and I never ended up playing another down of competitive football again after our state championship game of that fall in 1984.

Looking back now, instead of the bitterness and defeat I felt when I lost my starting spot, I am now grateful to Dean for his challenge to me that day.  It taught me several valuable and important lessons that have helped me through my life.

I learned that sometimes, despite our best efforts, things don’t always work out the way WE want them to.  I learned that you should never get too comfortable, take anything for granted or feel entitled to what you think you may have earned, because it can be taken away in an instant.  I learned that sometimes when things don’t work out the way you expected, and a door seems to close in your face, that another and sometimes much better pathway opens up far greater than what you had planned on.  I also learned that when life gets tough, the Lord has often placed wise and caring people around us, like a Coach Haley and a Stuart Cardon, to show us kindness and offer to help us see our way through those difficulties.  That experience also taught me how to realize that our lives are full of different seasons, that things like football eventually come to an end, and other seasons like marriage, parenthood, and other rewarding endeavors can take their place, and that we should always enjoy each season of our life while it lasts.

These are just a few of the valuable life lessons I learned from the football gridiron throughout those early years of my life.  And I am grateful for Dean and what his challenge taught me.

Sadly, Dean passed away several years ago from a sudden heart attack, leaving behind a wife and family.  One of his sons Mitch now plays football for Arizona State, fulfilling both his and his father’s dream of playing competitive football.

I don’t really know Mitch or his family, but during my prayer that morning, when this memory was jolted into my mind, I felt I should reach out and share this story with him, so that he might come to know how Dean, his father, had a lasting impact on my life in positive ways.  And that perhaps it might inspire and help Mitch somehow in his own life and struggles on the gridiron.

And from this experience, I also learned how a wise and loving Heavenly Father sometimes brings things full circle, taking a hard experience for me, turning it into a way for me to grow in many ways, and later allowing that experience to come back around to Dean's family for their betterment as well.

Life is such a wonderful experience!  May we cherish the moments, both good and bad, and be grateful for the meaning behind all that we do!

Eric