Blow the Whistle, Jesus! - What Coaching Kids Taught Me About God’s Patience.

If you ever want court-side tickets to watch theology in motion, I highly recommend coaching youth basketball.

Not seminary. Not a Bible Study. Not a quiet prayer closet.

Nope.

Put on a whistle. Herd 5-6 year olds who still think defense is a vibe and 9-10 year olds who are fully convinced they’re one spin move away from the NBA.

That’s where the spiritual growth happens.

Because somewhere between tying shoes for the 47th time and reminding a child that we do not steal the ball from our own teammate, I had this overwhelming realization:

I bet God looks at us the same way I look at these kids.

Lovingly.

Patiently.

Slightly amused.

With consistent head shakes, sighs, and “Bless it’s” galore.

Quarter 1: We all want the ball (Even when it’s not ours)

These 5-6 year olds? They want the ball at ALL times.

Doesn’t matter who has it. Doesn’t matter if it’s their teammate. Doesn’t matter if they’re supposed to be playing defense.

BALL = MINE

They will rip it straight out of their own teammate’s hands with zero shame and full confidence that it was the right move.

And honestly? That feels biblical.

How often do we do that with God?

·       God gives someone else an opportunity – We side-eye it.

·       God blesses someone else – We pout and quietly question our worth.

·       God clearly tells us to “wait” – We run anyway like a dog chasing a tennis ball.

“You want what you don’t have, so you scheme and kill to get it.” – James 4:2 (paraphrased by an exhausted coach)

God’s over here saying, “I already assigned you a position. Why are you tackling your own teammate?”

And we’re here like a bunch of kindergarteners yelling, “I WANT THE BALL!”

Quarter 2: We cry when we miss the shot (even though we took the shot)

If a 5 or 6 year old misses a basket, it is not just a miss.

It is a tragedy.

Tears. Dramatic collapse. Full identity crisis.

Even though:

-            They took the shot.

-            They tried.

-            They were brave enough to step up.

They still cry and hang their head.

And I swear I’ve done the same thing with God.

-            I pray.

-            I step out.

-            I try. (sometimes over and over and over)

And when it doesn’t land how I imagined it?

Cue the spiritual meltdown.

               “God, why didn’t you come through?”

               “Did I do something to mess it up?”

               “Was I wrong?”

Meanwhile God’s like: “I’m proud of you for shooting. You’re still learning. Make the adjustments so the next shot lands.”

Failure doesn’t disqualify us. It forms us. And sometimes God is way more focused on the courage it took to shoot than whether the ball went in.

Quarter 3: Winning isn’t the same as being faithful

The score matters deeply to mini-humans.

And if we lose?

-            Someone cries

-            Someone sulks

-            Someone asks if they can quit basketball forever

But I keep asking them:

               “Did you try?”

               “Did you listen?”

               “Did you play as a team?”

That’s the win. And I think God asks us the same questions.

Not “did you crush it?” or “did you look impressive?” or “did you outperform everyone else?”

But “were you faithful?” and “did you love people well?” and “did you trust me when it was hard?”

Because obedience doesn’t always look like a scoreboard win. Sometimes it looks like showing up anyway.

Quarter 4: The older kids think they’re the star

Ah yes. The 9-10 year olds.

Confident. Cocky. And fully convinced they are ready to join the NBA tomorrow.

They don’t pass the ball. They want to attempt all the trick shots. And they like to showboat.

They will absolutely ignore an open teammate to attempt the dramatic solo play.

And then – MISS. The easiest. Shot. Possible.

Listen, if pride had a uniform, it would be youth sports. And if humility is learned anywhere, it’s right after falling flat on your face in front of everyone.

               “Pride goes before destruction.” – Proverbs 16:18

God loves us too much to let us win at everything when we’re being arrogant. Sometimes He lets us miss. Not to shame us. But to remind us – this was never a solo sport.

Overtime: We’re all still learning the rules

Here’s the thing about kids.

-            They don’t know all the rules.

-            They forget the plays.

-            They get confused.

-            They wander and daydream.

And yet…they keep showing up to the game.

-            They trust the coach.

-            They trust they’ll learn.

-            They trust the process.

God doesn’t expect us to have it all figured out. He knows we are learning, we are clumsy, we will mess up plays we’ve run a hundred times, and still trip over our untied shoes.

But – He keeps coaching. He keeps correcting. He keeps tying our shoes and calling us back to position.

Post-Game Film Review: Playing by the rules still counts (even when you lose on the scoreboard)

Let me tell you a real-life, straight-from-the-sidelines story.

Our second game with my 10U kids – we lost.

27-8

And it wasn’t a “good job, close game, get ‘em next time” kind of loss. It was frustrating. It was defeating. It was the kind of loss where shoulders slumped, heads hung, and confidence quietly leaked out of the gym.

But here’s my thing… My kids played hard. They played clean. And they played by the rules. (Okay – passing and communication were…still a work in progress.)

Two days later, I got a phone call from the youth sports director. Turns out, the other team had to forfeit that game.

Why?

They’d played an illegal player.

Because they didn’t have enough players to start with, they put in an unregistered player. He was the coach’s son.

He was a full year older, almost a foot taller, and very aggressive.

They wanted the win. They wanted the points. And they got both…temporarily. But because they broke the rules? They lost it all.

My kids didn’t score those extra points. They didn’t get the flashy win. But in the end…they still walked away with the victory.

How often do we think we’re losing just because we have the lower score on the board? But God sees something else entirely. He sees integrity, obedience, and character. Sometimes the win doesn’t come in real time… it comes later. After we’ve exhausted ourselves, been humbled, and let the hurt subside.

And sometimes the people who look like they’re scoring all the points and winning…

Aren’t.

Post-Game Huddle

Some days I look at these kids and think: “This is absolute chaos.”

And then I realize… We probably look the same from heaven. A bunch of kids fighting for control. Crying when things don’t go our way. Showing off and getting away from the plan.

And a God who stays on the sidelines saying, “Eyes up. Pass the ball. Play defense. Listen to Me.”

And honestly? I’m really grateful He’s the Coach. Because I still forget the rules sometimes too.

I’ve told all of my kids “My job is not to make you all perfect players. My job IS to make sure I leave you at the end of the season, a better player than when I got you.”

God isn’t waiting for us to play perfectly – He’s patiently teaching us how to play as a team, keep showing up, and trust the Coach even when the game looks messy.