Choosing Your Master 'Coach'

The Master Coach

If you've read my earlier posts, you know how much my coach has meant to me. I'll never forget the first time he ended a text to me with the words "your coach." A deep, quiet pride filled my heart. I hadn't chosen him—he had chosen me. He'd picked me out of the weakest of the weak and told me he could see something in me that I couldn't see in myself.

He helped pull me out of one of the darkest places I've ever been. And through his patience, his belief, and his refusal to give up on me, I slowly began to see myself the way he saw me—and to believe that maybe, with his help, I really could become the person he was so sure I could be.

From the very first session, we talked about far more than physical fitness. We talked about the mind and the spirit, too. And I learned something quickly: his extraordinary accomplishments weren't only about the hours he spent shaping his body. Long before he ever won his greatest titles, he had already trained his mind and spirit to live as if he had already become who he was working to be.

He is one of the most decorated natural bodybuilders in the world—a man who has won hundreds of titles and honors most of us can't even imagine. So when he tells someone how to eat, how to move, how to think? I listen. I remember shaking my head in disbelief when a man in our group class explained—rather convincingly!—which parts of the plan he intended to skip. His reasoning sounded good. But I couldn't help thinking: if you want the results the master has, follow the master.

When my coach trains me, he expects me to trust him completely and to give it everything I have. His standards are sky-high, and I love reaching for them—even though I fall short constantly. I'm just grateful to have someone stretching me to aim that high, and expecting me to try.

THE Master Coach

And all of this keeps turning my thoughts toward Jesus Christ—because so much of what my coach has taught me about discipline, belief, and becoming, points me straight to Him.

Christ is the Master Coach when it comes to the things that matter most: overcoming death, healing what's broken, and finding real and lasting joy. He is the only one who has truly overcome it all. He rose from the grave, and He reaches down to lift us out of whatever has us bound. We were bought with a price. He knows, better than anyone, exactly what each of us needs in order to become whole and to find peace.

Here's the question that stops me in my tracks, though: so many people believe in Christ—but how many of us actually believe Him when He tells us how to live?

Just as it's uncomfortable and even painful to work a weak muscle, it's uncomfortable to build spiritual and mental strength. But little by little, as we follow His counsel, we're shaped more into His likeness—the same way that, little by little, as I trust my coach and do what he asks, I'm shaped more into an athlete. Growth is slow, and it's hard, and it's worth it.

So whoever you are, reading this: I'd gently invite you to accept Christ's offer to be your Father, your Teacher, your Friend, the lover of your soul. Whatever falls short in your life, He can make up the difference. Whatever burden you're carrying, He can make it light. Whatever your pain, He can turn it into peace. And He can build something beautiful out of the ashes—whether the fire came from your own choices or from someone else's.

Following Him isn't always easy. It isn't always easy to understand why He asks what He asks. But I can testify that Christ lives, that He died for each of us, that He atoned for everything we lack, and that He is the ultimate coach—the one who will help us overcome all, exactly as He did.

My prayer for you

My prayer is for you and your family. If you're a parent leading a home, I pray you do it with love, tenderness, and patience, teaching your children most of all by your example. If you don't yet have a relationship with God, I'd simply encourage you to get on your knees and pray, and maybe to open the scriptures with someone you love. He's standing at the door. Knock, and it will be opened.

And here's the promise I hold onto most tightly: because of Christ, we will see our loved ones again. Until then, hand God all of your anger, all of your fear, and all of your pain.

When my father died, it left an enormous hole in my heart. With God's help, He carried the sadness and the worry and the fear I couldn't carry alone. I still miss my dad—deeply—but my joy is anchored in knowing that Christ lives.

He is risen. And because of that, I know that one day, my father will live again too.

Happy Easter.

With much love,

Steffanie