We say it all the time. It has become part of our lingo, and we don’t realize we are saying it. Most church meetings begin with these words: Let’s have a quick word of prayer. I believe these seven words grieve God’s heart, because He desires a lasting conversation—not lip service.

The underlying message is, “Before we get to the important stuff, let’s rush through the God stuff.” It becomes a rote habit that bypasses our heart. It helps us look spiritual, but lacks power. Connecting with God can't be rushed. God must think, “There they go again! I wish they wouldn’t think of Me as a ritual or a rabbit’s foot that they can rub for good luck before they start their meeting.”

While on a recent backpacking trip with my daughter, I found myself crying out to God in prayer before even breaking out in a sweat.

First, my GPS was having issues and couldn't locate the trail head. So, what should have been a 1.5-hour drive, turned into almost 3 hours. While it had only been sprinkling all morning, as soon as we started hiking the rain came pouring down. Then, not even a half mile into the trip, my waist belt broke, which meant my pack would have to rest on my shoulders and back, not my hips. And, finally, at the foot of our first incline, my trekking pole broke, and with my bad knees, this was a vital piece of equipment.

While on a hard training ride the other day, I noticed how focused I was on my goal of getting a personal best on this particular course. I kept checking my cadence, heart-rate monitor, speed and perceived exertion, and I even noticed I was making ground on the cyclist ahead of me. This ride and my focus made me ask myself two questions about my spiritual life:

1. Do I spend as much time making sure I am on track with my Christian life?
2. What marks do I use to assess where I am?

It takes heart to play sports. Coaches fire up their teams by saying, “Go out there and play with all your heart!” While skills and talent are important, playing with heart separates the good from the great. When my daughter plays basketball and looks toward me, I pound my hand on my heart. It is my sign to encourage her to play with heart. Playing with heart is about drive, passion, and desire.

Life rarely turns out as we thought it would. Sports aren’t any different. It may be fun to dream of the players we could be, but things do not always turn out as planned. Sometimes it’s hard to see, but looking back we realize it all worked for the best. I am glad for the things that are not as I had intended, because I would have missed a lot.

God does not often work in the ways we may think He would. He works beyond them. He does not fit in the box in which we are prone to put Him. In fact, He seems to do what does not make sense. The Savior of the world came as an infant, became a carpenter, rode on a donkey, served alongside fishermen, and died alongside criminals.

Every once in awhile you find an athlete who has the right stuff. Talented on the field, in the classroom, with their friends, and everybody's All-American. Northwestern University has such a young man. His name is Jason Wright. I just watched Jason finish his football career the other night in the Motor City Bowl where he helped his team by gaining 336 all-purpose yards and was named Co-MVP of the game. His team came up short that night, but football is just what Jason does, it is not who he is. Jason learned a long time ago that his significance is found in Jesus Christ. His religion is not football, his truth is not his football playbook. He lives to serve Jesus Christ. His Bible is the ultimate "playbook" for his life.

I spent the past two evenings watching a lot of high school basketball at the annual Vandalia Holiday Tournament. The South Central Cougars won the tourney, and in a most dramatic fashion, I might add. Monday night, one of the Cougars hit a 3-pointer just shy of half court with no time left, banking it in to help his team beat the hosting Vandals by one point. The very next night, the Cougars played in the championship against the No. 1 seed — the defending champions from Pana High School. The game went into overtime. The score was tied with 1.3 seconds left when, for the second night in a row, that same Cougar drained a baseline jumper. They won by two.

Most mornings, I start the day with a nice, long bike ride. I usually go anywhere from 25 to 30-plus miles. My knees are shot from years of playing sports, so cycling is my workout of choice. I enjoy biking on the winding, narrow country roads in southern New Hampshire, and my daily ride always leads me to the same place.

The saying goes that “all roads lead to Rome,” but, for me, all roads lead up the Route 13 hill going into Mont Vernon. This hill is over a mile long and has a couple very steep spots on the ride up. Most mornings, I tackle “Hill-Zilla” (as in Godzilla) twice a bike ride, and I throw another mile-long hill in between. Like I said, I really enjoy cycling and, after taking a few too many hockey pucks to the head, I find cycling up big hills to be fun.

Coaches cannot make everyone happy. We hear cruel and untrue remarks shouted at us from the stands every game day. “You’re not playing the right person—you don’t know what you’re doing—I could coach better than that in my sleep!” It is easy to dwell on these comments, respond to them with anger, or lash back at shouters in the stands. The difficult task is to respond as Jesus would respond, and we learn how to do that from his example in Scripture. Responding to ignorance is even more difficult when we are criticized for seeking to live godly lives. The Apostle Peter teaches us that actions speak louder than words when it comes to bearing witness before those who ridicule us.

Every time my family goes to a Baltimore Ravens football game we get caught up in signaling and chanting “Move those chains!” every time the Ravens get a first down. At first glance you might think, ‘big deal…they moved the ball ten yards.” But first downs lead to touchdowns.

The player or team that practices, prepares, and performs with the most consistency generally outplays their opponent. And when we “move the chains”, we create and sustain momentum. Consistency leads to excellence and is fueled by self-discipline.

When I came to the Pittsburgh Steelers, I was a rookie and came in during the heyday when they were in the process of winning four Super Bowls in six years. You think of all the star players and the Hall of Fame guys and you think, well that’s why they’re so good. But it really wasn’t. As I got there, I saw how it operated. It was the practices. It was everybody working together. I think it’s still possible to achieve that today. The good teams have that. Even though you have star players, they understand that it’s not 11 individuals who are going to go out there and have things run smoothly enough to win.