My father instilled a very important lesson in us when we were growing up: If you take care of your things, they will last a long time. This meant washing and oiling our bikes, cleaning our tools, and picking up our clothes.

Once we were old enough to buy our own cars, he encouraged us to change the oil regularly and follow the maintenance schedule. Doing so would prevent unexpected and unwanted breakdowns.



I have been very faithful in following my father’s advice about taking care of my car. I have not, however, transferred this wisdom to other areas in my life. How do I know?

A couple of years ago, I was convinced I was going to have to have surgery on my knees. A visit to an orthopedic surgeon confirmed some damage in one and arthritis in the other. He then prescribed physical therapy, which I took to mean a hoop to jump through before surgery could be considered.

However, physical therapy did wonders. It eliminated the pain and restored the range of motion so that I was again doing what I loved—pain free.

You can guess what happened next. Yup. I quit doing my exercises. Why? Because I didn’t think I needed them anymore because the pain was gone. And . . . ? Yup. The pain and constriction has returned.

So I am back to doing my exercises. Lesson learned. Maintenance is just as important as initial aggressive intervention.

But there is another area in my life where I sometimes slip on my maintenance schedule. My spiritual life. When life is going well, I fudge on my devotion time. I can get by without doing it today, I convince myself, which then turns into tomorrow, and the next day, only to find myself unprepared for the unexpected that is waiting around the corner, and then I find myself scrambling to reconnect with God.

I don’t know why these two parallels escaped me. I Corinthians 6:19-20 reminds us that our body is a temple and that we are to take care of it, and John 16:33 tells us that we will have troubles, so stay close to the one who overcame the world.

As my niece used to say when she was little and her elders would start to remind her of what she should be doing — “I know the words!” And yet . . . application can be so hard sometimes.

So I have come to appreciate pain for what can be . . . a reminder . . . not to stray from the disciplines and devotion that can keep me healthy.

Fall is just around the corner. The mornings are turning crisp, and pumpkin spice is adorning the shelves in every possible configuration. So . . . my thoughts naturally turn to the Thanksgiving holiday and its byproduct—gratitude.

What started this thought train was a sudden absence of pain in my left shoulder. For almost six months I have been struggling with some rotator cuff pain. Suddenly, it was gone—not forever—but for about an hour I was pain free, and the reminder of what that felt like generated an immediate thank you to God.

It also brought back a rush of other things I was thankful for this year.

Rain—lots of it—bringing an end to the drought (even if only temporarily).
A beautiful spring and rather mild summer
A home to call my own
The ability (health/finances) to enjoy my passions
A wonderful celebration of Life for my sister Jamie
Friends who look out for me
My immediate and extended family who are always there for each other

I could go on and on. I should go on in on. Not necessarily here, but in the privacy of my own journal. A grateful heart reminds us of a loving and faithful heavenly father.

May this fall season find you reflecting on and sharing what you are grateful for.

I picked up a tennis racquet for the first time in about fifteen years the other day. I needed to see if I could still hit the ball for an upcoming event.

I went and bought some tennis shoes (which are now called court shoes by the way), and a friend of mine kindly loaned me a racquet (since I didn’t own one any more) and offered to take me out to a court and feed me some really easy balls to hit.

Well . . . as we discussed last week, I checked my grip. Good. I bounced on my toes. Legs seemed to be working. I moved to get into position. Not quite so good, but about 75% of the time I was in the right spot. But my hitting wasn’t crisp. Even though the racquet was about twice the size of what I used to play with, I wasn’t hitting the sweet spot.

The problem? I was taking my eye off the ball.

This is a crucial error many athletes at all levels make. We have seen the pro receiver have the ball literally in his hands only to drop it because he looked toward the end zone too soon. Baseballs have been whiffed, fly balls dropped, golf balls shanked or topped, and tennis balls thunked on the frame because at the last minute the player looked up or ahead or anywhere rather than staying focused on the ball.

The results are frustrating and often we want to just give up, but it’s our own fault.

Too often in our Christian walk we “take our eye off the ball” as well, the ball being the one thing God wants us to be focusing on at the moment rather than 1) the future, 2) those watching, 3) what’s happening around us, 4) potential consequences, etc.

Peter slipped beneath the sea when he took his eyes off of Jesus and onto the storm around him (Matthew 14:30). Conversely, one of the greatest Biblical characters to stay focused was Noah, who steadfastly worked for 55 to 75 years on building an ark, most likely amid derisive comments by the locals.

Many of the heroes of the faith stayed focused on what God asked them to do, not questioning where He had placed them or the circumstances they were in. Instead trusting Him: Joshua, Daniel, Esther, Joseph, Paul, Rahab, Gideon, Ruth.

Though the advice in Proverbs 4:27 was given to youth to instruct them not to veer from a righteous path, the advice not to “turn to the right or the left” is useful for our eyes, heart, and focus as well.

Let’s not succumb to the world’s distractions or Satan’s deception. Instead, let’s keep our eyes on God.

In any sport that involves a club, racket, bat, or ball that must be held, the very first thing a person is taught is how to hold it.

The grip is the foundation to determining success. Even though you might make contact with the ball or be able to throw it, the correct grip makes it much easier to be consistent and grow in the game. A poor grip will only take you so far and often you will have to unlearn and learn again if you hope to progress.



The same is true in our spiritual life. What we choose to hold on to and how we chose to hold it is foundational to our spiritual growth. The Bible is clear on this.

Cling to God, hold lightly to the things of the world.

Many people, even Christians, often put their security in what they own, what they have in the bank account, or in their past achievements. This isn’t at all new. King David made mention of it as well.

“Some trust in chariots and some in horses” (Psalm 20:7).

But the things of the world are fallible. They fail. They die. They rust. They get stolen.

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal” (Matthew 6:19).

Instead we are told to “hold lightly to the things of this world” (1 Corinthians 7:29-31). Be ready to let them go. To release them. They will all disappear eventually and for all eternity.

Conversely, we are told to hold on to God; we should “trust in the name of the LORD our God” (Psalm 20:7).

And how should we hold?

“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23).

“My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me” (Psalm 63:8).

“Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess” (Hebrews 4:14).

“Christ is faithful as the Son over God’s house. And we are his house, if indeed we hold firmly to our confidence and the hope in which we glory” (Hebrews 3:6).

If we want to grow in our spiritual walk, If we want to be able to handle difficult and challenging situations, If we want to enable our faith to grow, then we must start with the first step. We must make sure that our grip is correct. Then, hold on—firmly, unswervingly, tightly—to God.