Sweet Spot Living: The Power Three

12 U Terriers Baseball Team Sandusky Sunday Morning Talk

(ChatGPT was used to refine this talk- I wrote the information, fed it to Chat, and then I tweaked it again)

Opening Hook (1 min):

"Dawgs, you all know the feeling when you hit the ball just right—clean, solid, and it flies. That moment when you don’t even feel the vibration… just the smooth connection—that’s the sweet spot. What if I told you that life has a sweet spot too? And you can live in it—not just at the plate, but at home, at school, and with your teammates."

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Analogy (2 min):
"Liam used a wooden bat for years—beautiful thing, but hard to hit with. You’ve got to catch it just right. We took it to the pros at Sabre Cat Bats to learn how to clean off the ball marks. The owner looked at the ball marks all over it and said, 'The pros? All their marks are on the sweet spot.'

Why? Because they’ve practiced. They’ve failed. They’ve studied. But when they connect? Power. Effortless. Game-changing.

Now—think about you. You already know how to grind, how to work, how to hustle. But today, I want to show you a different kind of power. A secret weapon, even stronger than muscles or mechanics."

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Turn the Corner (2 min):
"Here’s the truth: Life throws curveballs. Hard days. Confusing situations. Pressure. People will misunderstand you. Someone mean to you and you fight back with a harsh tone- that is a hit off the handle. You throw your helmet out of frustration- that is a foul off the end of the bat. You get down and pout because you don’t get your way?- that is like a strikeout. But there’s a way to still live in the sweet spot—even when you don’t get the outcome you want.

Let me introduce you to my Power Three:
Faith. Hope. Love.    "Now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."   —1 Corinthians 13:13

When I’m living in these three—believing in something bigger than me (that’s faith), staying positive even when life is tough (that’s hope), and caring more about others than just myself (that’s love)—I’m at my best. That’s when I feel peace. That’s when I make an impact. That’s my sweet spot.

Not because everything’s easy, but because I’m centered.

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Personal Example (2 min):
"I remember a game when I was 17. At the park in Dover. I think Kiko may have been at that game. The pitcher threw me a nasty curveball—but I timed it just right. Boom. Sweet spot. Homerun.

I’ve also had sweet spot moments off the field—helping a patient find hope, giving a talk that finally connected with my students, staying calm with my kids when I wanted to yell. Those are sweet spot wins too.

And guess what? Sometimes I hit the sweet spot, and things still don’t go my way. Just like a perfect line drive—caught by the shortstop. That doesn’t mean I failed. It means I’m swinging the right way."

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Wrap-Up Challenge (2 min):
Boys, you don’t need to be perfect. But you do need to swing with purpose. Those pros took thousands of swings to learn how to hit the sweet spot. I think those bats the Sabre Cat owner talked about were probably the bats they used in practice. They don’t always hit off the sweetspot in games! 

Let me leave you with this:

• When you’re overwhelmed? Choose faith—believe you’re not alone. Hebrews 11:1 Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.
  
  

• When you’re discouraged? Choose hope—remember that setbacks are setups. 

• When you’re angry or selfish? Choose love—put others first.

In conclusion, Babe Ruth said, “It’s hard to beat a person who never gives up.” ~Babe Ruth

Some good hitters have a power statement: Pete Rose famously used the positive self-talk statement, “See the ball, hit the ball” every time he set himself in the batter’s box. Others might say, “Yes yes yes.” “Bring it.” “See it. Hit it.” Some may be more laid back: “I want ice cream!” 

Maybe your power statement in life could be: faith, hope, love!

We talk a lot about controlling the controllables. Growing in these three- —faith, hope, and love—is a way you can learn to control the controllables. These three will take you further than talent ever could. This week, I want you to try swinging with the Power Three. See what happens.

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The Power of the Spiritual Mixer

 Good morning, everyone. I want to share a little story to start our communion thoughts today. A pastor once asked an older farmer, dressed in bib overalls, to say grace before breakfast. The farmer began, 'Lord, I hate buttermilk.' The pastor peeked open an eye, wondering where this was going. The farmer continued, 'Lord, I hate lard.' Now the pastor was really curious. 'And Lord, you know I don’t much care for raw white flour,' the farmer added. The room got quiet—people shifting in their seats. Then the farmer smiled and said, 'But Lord, when you mix them all together and bake them, I do love warm fresh biscuits. So Lord, when things come up we don’t like, when life gets hard, when we don’t understand what you’re doing, help us relax and wait till you’re done mixing. It’ll probably be even better than biscuits. Amen.'

Communion is a time to pause and examine our hearts. We all have some 'lard' in our lives—things we dread facing. Maybe some 'buttermilk'— situations testing our patience or making it hard to love others. And probably some 'white flour'—trials we don’t yet understand. How are you doing with the wait? Are you able to stay calm and trust God’s plan? This table is an opportunity to reflect on Christ, His sacrifice, and examine our hearts. When we believe the ingredients of our lives aren’t mixing well, we remember it is Through Christ’s death on the cross, that God’s grace becomes the mixer that takes all these things and makes us new. Just like those biscuits, He’s working something beautiful out of it all. Let’s pray."

"Father, we come before You with grateful hearts. We thank you for the kids in this church who organizing prayers before their school events, who are loving and speaking up for the kids that others are making fun of. Thank you for the kids who have the courage to go against the flow and glorify You, even when it’s awkward or scary.

And Father, for the adults who see their jobs as their mission, serving out of love every minute, even when they’re exhausted, down, or tired—we pray for courage, strength, and endurance to press on. For the adults stepping up to lead groups of kids, serving in Your name—I pray for courage and clarity to shine through them.

Lord, for all of us working to learn how to love You, there’s some lard, some buttermilk, and some white flour in our lives. We confess our sins right now and we pray for your help to keep us walking toward You, to remain in You. Through Your grace and forgiveness, teach us to extend the same to others.  Embolden us to show Your love in all circumstances —to trust that You’re mixing something beautiful, even when we can’t see it yet. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Kintsugi of the Heart

This morning, as we prepare for communion, I want to focus on the amazing power of Christ’s redemption. Can you think of a time, when you broke something valuable and wished that it could be put back together as though nothing was wrong?

I can still remember it like it was yesterday. Standing in my friend's grandparents' living room in the mid-1980s, admiring a beautiful end table – beveled glass, chandelier-like sparkles. Then, in a flash, it was shattered. I’d lost my balance, tried to steady myself, and the table, never meant to support my weight, crumbled beneath me. My heart sank. What a mistake! How could we pay for it? How could I explain it? If only I could undo what I’d done. Regret, remorse…if only I could put it back together.

That memory brings to mind the Japanese art of Kintsugi. Broken pottery and furniture aren't just discarded; they're painstakingly repaired, the cracks filled with melted gold. The brokenness is not hidden, but highlighted, transformed into something even more beautiful. The piece is stronger, more unique, because of its history.

As we prepare for communion, I want to read 1 Corinthians 11:23-28 23 For I received from the Lord what I also passed on to you: The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, 24 and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.” 25 In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.” 26 For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

27 So then, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. 28 Everyone ought to examine themselves before they eat of the bread and drink from the cup. 29 For those who eat and drink without discerning the body of Christ eat and drink judgment on themselves.

As we remember Christ and examine ourselves, you will find that you are broken. We all make mistakes, we stumble, we fall short. We carry regrets, remorse for words spoken or actions taken. We feel the weight of our imperfections. But the amazing grace of Jesus is like that gold in Kintsugi. It doesn't erase our brokenness, but it redeems it. It fills the cracks, mends the shattered pieces, and transforms us into something even more beautiful than we were before.

The apostle Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:17, "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!" This communion, this meal we share, is a powerful reminder of that new creation. It's a symbol of God's unwavering love and forgiveness, freely offered to each of us, broken as we are. It’s a chance to experience that golden mending, to be strengthened and renewed.

As we partake in this communion, let us come to him, broken and weary, knowing that his grace is sufficient, that his love heals, and that he makes all things new. Let us receive his gift of forgiveness and be transformed, like a piece of Kintsugi art, into something beautiful and strong, bearing the marks of our journey, but made whole by his love.

Truth or Love

Has anyone ever played the fun and lighthearted game “Truth or Dare”? It’s a great way to learn more about each other. If you choose truth, you have to answer honestly. If you choose dare, you take on a silly challenge. As I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that life often feels like a different version of this game—one I’d call Truth or Love.

This past week, I found myself in a round of “Truth or Love” with a family member I only see about once a year. His anger toward people with opposing political views can sometimes feel overwhelming. With the upcoming inauguration, he must have been triggered because he sent me a message saying, “The last time I was in Ohio in August, I said, ‘If Ohio votes for Trump, I’ll never go to that awful state again.’” Except, he used a word even harsher than “awful.” He went on to state he didn’t think he would be coming to our reunion that he has attended for 48 years.

Hearing those words stung—not just because of our political differences, but because it felt like being right mattered more than loving family. I had a decision to make: Would I respond with truth, or would I choose love?

Some of my favorite scriptures helped guide me. Romans 12:18 says, “As far as it depends on you, make every effort to do what is right in the eyes of everyone and to live at peace with everyone.” In 1 Corinthians, we’re reminded, “Love is patient, love is kind… it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” And in Ephesians 3:19, we’re told that “Love surpasses knowledge.”

So, I chose love. I reminded him that, in our family, we’ve always loved one another—regardless of what or how much we drink, smoke, eat, who we love, how many we love, or where we place our bets in life. We’re a very diverse and beautiful crew that has managed to come together consistently for 48 years! That simple reminder softened the tension. We ended up having a great conversation. In this case, sharing my “truth” would have only stirred the pot. Choosing love kept the peace, and I hope it continues to allow us to share life with one another.

When we look at the cross, we’re reminded that Jesus also chose love. He never shied away from the truth, but He used it wisely—never as a weapon. In His life, and especially in His death, Jesus showed us how to balance truth and love perfectly.

As we come to the cross and examine our hearts, we face a similar challenge. The fact is, we play “Truth or Love” with ourselves every day. The truth is, we don’t deserve forgiveness so we risk being overly critical and judgmental of ourselves. But God’s love is so great that He gave His Son for us. Truth and love meet in the messy middle—where grace abounds and allows us to win. I pray we accept His grace, instead of living in cycles of guilt and despair. His love transform us.

So this week, as we take communion, let’s reflect on the love that surpasses knowledge. Let’s thank God for showing us that love isn’t about choosing sides—it’s about choosing Him.

 

When Bravery Feels Like Fear

Sometimes, bravery feels like fear. Can you think of a time when you were afraid but chose to act anyway? One of the scariest times of my life was in college when I decided to go on a mission trip to Haiti. Our pastor Dave was encouraging us to be uncomfortable with our comfortableness. Well,I was certainly uncomfortable because I had to leave the group I traveled with early and make an eight-hour journey south from St. Louis Du Nord to Port Au Prince with only an interpreter I didn’t know, just to make it back in time for a clinical internship. I was terrified, fearing the worst—that I might be taken hostage for ransom. Yet, despite my fear, I found the courage to move forward. At that moment, bravery felt a lot like fear.

Perhaps you’ve had similar experiences, where your courage felt more like fear. It reminds me of what Jesus faced after the Last Supper when He went to the Garden of Gethsemane. He knew what awaited Him: betrayal, suffering, and death on the cross. Luke 22:44 says, “And being in anguish, He prayed more earnestly, and His sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.” Here, we see our Savior in a moment of deep human fear. He even prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.”

Jesus felt the full weight of what lay ahead, yet He did not let fear dictate His actions. His bravery must have felt like overwhelming fear. If He had listened to that fear more than to His sense of purpose, we would not be here today. Instead, He chose to trust His Father’s will, motivated by love for God and love for us.

As we take the bread and the cup today, remember that Jesus’ courage led Him to the cross. But the story did not end there—His courage in the face of fear led to the ultimate victory: victory over sin, over death, and over every power of darkness. When He walked out of the tomb, He gave us hope that no fear is too great and no pain too deep for God’s love to redeem.

So, if you’re facing a time when courage feels a lot like fear, take heart. Jesus understands that feeling. His example shows us that true courage is not the absence of fear, but the decision to trust God’s plan, even when we don’t know what lies ahead. As we eat and drink, may we draw strength from His sacrifice, and remember that because of His victory, we too can face our fears with hope and assurance.

Prayer:

Father, You are the Master of all emotions. You have felt them all. Help us, Lord, to choose what is right and true, even when our hearts are trembling. Help us to trust Your plan, knowing that Your love is greater than our fears, and may our love for you and others be way louder than the fear. Help us to be uncomfortable with our comfortableness. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Marvelous Light!

Marvelous Light

As we prepare for communion this morning, let’s reflect on the song we just sang, *Marvelous Light*. This week, I spent a lot of time meditating on its words. At first, they felt like just words—maybe because I was distracted by work and life. But as I prayed and kept the song in my heart, the meaning began to take root.

The opening line says, *“I once was fatherless.”* This reminded me of when life was all about me—when I pursued my will instead of God’s. Johnny Chang, an ex-gang member who turned his life around through Christ, said that living for ourselves leads to destruction. We can see this in the headlines today, where the "all-about-me" mindset often leads to tragedy.

*“Your kindness wakens me, Your love beckons deeply.”* Christ’s love stirs something within us. It draws us toward the cross, where we find true life. His love pulls us away from chasing our own desires and points us to something greater.

*“Sin has lost its power.”* This doesn’t happen by us trying harder to avoid sin. Instead, it happens when we see temptation as a chance to show God our love. Grace weakens sin’s grip.

Death has lost its sting because, in Christ, we know death is not the end. We are alive forever in Him!

Running into His marvelous light isn’t just an emotional moment—it’s a daily choice to turn away from our self-centered ways and live for Christ. Out of darkness, out of shame, we stop following our appetites and start following Him, forming new, Christ-centered habits.

*“By the cross.”* This isn’t just about following a great teacher. It’s about following the God who raised Christ from the dead. It’s about living by His truth, not by our feelings.

Living this way takes relentless practice and effort. Coming to the communion table is a time to recharge and refocus. We won’t always feel like lifting our hands or celebrating, but as we grow in Him, those moments of joy will come more often. We’ll realize more fully that we’re living in His marvelous light.

Let’s pray:

Father, we thank You for the cross and for Christ’s victory. Thank You for the truth that sets us free. We confess the times we’ve been spiritually asleep, following our own will. Help us to live by Your cross, walking in Your marvelous light. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

BATTLE!

One of the things I love most about coaching is watching kids rise to the occasion and battle when times get tough. They may not be able to control the outcome, but they can control how they battle. There's something special about the battle between a pitcher and a batter. The pressure is real—anxiety, even fear—but the team rallies around, offering encouragement. We have an incredibly fast pitcher on our team, and I've noticed three typical responses from the batters: Freeze—where they just stand still, Fight—where they battle with all they've got, and Flight—where they jump out of the batter's box. This past season, one batter actually did both—he jumped out of the box, then right back in, and believe it or not, he got a hit!

In football, I see that same battle during one-on-one Oklahoma drills. The boys face off, one trying to block while the other fights to break through. There's a raw focus and intensity, and in their eyes, you can see sheer determination. As teammates cheer on both sides, there’s a sense of camaraderie that builds in this kind of environment.

Cross-country, though, is where I feel the deepest emotions. Maybe it’s because I know how physically exhausted the runners are, but you can see them giving everything they have. When I watch my son run, I can’t help but reflect on how far he’s come. Watching the other runners, with their different body types and running styles, I’m in awe of each one because I know they’re all fighting their own battles. Yesterday, I saw one of our runners coming down a hill with his mother about 70 yards ahead. Just as I was about to shout words of encouragement, I heard her call out, telling him to run in honor of his brother who had passed away the year before. At that moment, I couldn’t even speak—I was overcome with emotion.

We battle best when our team is behind us, when we’re focused and determined, and when our motivation comes from deep within. Sometimes we battle for ourselves, but the most powerful and inspiring moments come when we battle for others—and for Christ.

Communion reminds us that the ultimate battle has already been won. Jesus’ love for us, shown through His sacrifice on the cross, gives us the strength to keep battling, not just for ourselves but for others as well. Jesus won the greatest battle on the cross, and while the fight for our salvation is finished, we still face daily struggles against the devil’s schemes.

This morning, as we prepare for communion, let us focus on Ephesians 6:10-18 as the foundation of our prayer.