Never accept limitations.

If you feel as if your legs have been cut from underneath you, get back up. If a door closes, don’t spend time staring at it. Be at peace and look for the open one. It’ll be there. Then, walk through it into the next phase of your life.

When we’re recovering from a spiritual fumble, we must realize everyone does stupid stuff. No one is exempt. An occasional misstep doesn’t brand us as stupid—it makes us real. God loves us regardless of our mishaps. After a fumble, do as any good football player would. Fight to recover what you lost, get back into the game, and let the Creator turn your loss into a gain. With Him, in spite of our fumbles we can rise to great heights.

No one gets an easy pass in life. We all meet struggles while pursuing our dreams. Sometimes our knees shake when facing giants, and sometimes our feet get knocked out from under us. Those are defining moments.

Truth and the breastplate of righteousness—being right with God— strengthen us in all our endeavors. We need the shoes of preparation on any of life’s fields, along with the shield of faith—like football pads— to protect against the enemy’s attacks. The helmet of salvation, like a football helmet, also keeps us safe.Praying each day and putting on the full armor of God will help us gain an automatic first down—a deeper connection in God’s zone— and a sure win on any playing field.

Plowing through life, you’re bound to run into obstructions. Some of life’s trials result from mistakes and missteps, and some from poor choices. I know about that too, because I’ve made my share of blunders and had to face the consequences.Other times, the unexpected lands in your hands like a wayward ball and the “trouble” coming at you is like a 250-pound linebacker blitzing straight off the edge.

At the end of the week, when we sat down to dinner, all eyes went to the trays on the table, where browned-to-perfection mini corn dogs cuddled up against a variety of dipping sauces.“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” A lineman wiped a tear from his eye.“It’s like Christmas,” I said, all choked up.“I love you, Coach.” The quarterback’s bottom lip quivered.We dove into the pile of savory sausages, watched NFL football, and forgot our aches, pains, and camp struggles.

When the football is handed to the ball carrier, everyone counts on that guy gaining a down or getting into the end zone, and when he does the crowd goes wild. But those who carry another’s burden, by helping out a weak or injured brother or sister, make a real difference and score points with God.

At a play-off game with the Chargers, goose bumps ran down my arms as I rushed through the smoke-filled tunnel onto the field. The energy and voices of 70,000 screaming fans can turn even a veteran player’s determined squint into the wide eyes of a child on Christmas morning.While the cheerleaders performed and urged on the crowd, running back Danny Woodhead turned to me. “Can you believe we get to do this?