Slowing Down to Show Up
Neal Young
Plenty of professions promote overworking. But few jobs glorify the outright refusal to set work aside as much as the profession I have chosen—coaching. For the first decade of my coaching career I battled the idea that I had to keep a crazy, jam-packed schedule not only to give my team an edge, but to prove to anyone watching that I had what it took.
I bought into the lie that to be a successful coach, I had to overdo it.
I meet regularly with a group of Christian coaches, and recently we were discussing the quarantine and the increased awareness it has given us about the hidden motivators that drive our working lives. We agreed that our compulsory slower pace in 2020 has forced us to reckon with the lying inner voice that says, ‘I can’t have any margin in my schedule. If I have any space, I’m not working hard enough or I’m not important enough.’
Fortunately, as the head coach at Covenant College, a Division III Christian college in Lookout Mountain, GA., I work at a place that values discipleship as much as winning games. And as I try to keep my relationship with God at the center of my coaching role, I have learned that listening—both in prayer and in my time with players—can be as important as talking, and that listening often requires slowing down.
It’s a shift that started seven years ago, when I was diagnosed with cancer and found myself forced to slow down for physical reasons. That’s when I learned that busyness does not equal significance. The stark reality of being faced with my own mortality at the age of 28, followed by three years of cancer treatment, resulted in a realignment of perspective. When I was healthy again, I threw myself into coaching, family, and my faith with considerable zeal and energy, but I have come to realize that even though my motivation was Christ-centered, I can’t keep up the pace that I set.
A pastor named Jon Tyson, who has helped my growth immensely, recently preached a sermon on a concept he calls “sacred pace,” and I think that perfectly describes the journey I have been on since my cancer diagnosis in 2013. I hit a low point physically because of the cancer and subsequent depression when I pushed myself too hard even though I was depleted. Then I set a frantic pace inspired by my recovery, but one that I couldn’t sustain day in and day out.
Today, with the benefit of insight from time with the Lord, the forced slowdown of the quarantine, and the support of the Covenant College community, I am committed to this sacred pace that allows me to pursue Christ, meaningful relationships and professional success by establishing rhythms of pouring myself out and retreating to be filled up again.
My feelings about working from home have been one indication of the transformation I have experienced so far. I never even entertained the idea of working from home before the quarantine. Being "in the office" was a badge of honor that I wore all too proudly. I justified it by repeating the false assumption that I could never be productive from home; I mean, my kids would just get in the way constantly, right? But these past few months have proven that assumption wrong and I have been shocked with how much I can get done in a day. And when I need a break, instead of getting on my phone or bothering my staff, I get to go wrestle with my kids.
Plans aren’t bad, and careful planning is a key component of coaching. But as I focus on being a Spirit-led coach in a Spirit-led program, God has showed me more clearly what it means to be faithful. And sometimes that means scrapping the plan.
Everyday faithfulness means being prepared and diligent, but it also means orienting my time, energy and overall focus on those things that God puts in front of me, and not necessarily the things I would choose for myself. I am learning to keep my perspective on God’s leadings, despite what I think people expect of me. If that means I might have margin in my schedule, that’s okay. I don’t need to fill that up with other things just because I think I should look busy.
There’s a line in a song by Christian rapper Swoope that says, “Ain’t no way to control what brings dead men to life.” That idea reminds me that even if offensive and defensive schemes can be taught by formulas, spiritual development doesn’t always follow a predetermined path. My goal as a coach is to build men of impact who love and resemble Jesus Christ. I'm learning more and more how much that requires--praying for them, encouraging them consistently, making space for them to talk, and staying vulnerable about my own challenges.
As I continue to explore what it looks like to pursue a sacred pace in my work, family, and faith, I also have the opportunity to teach that concept to young men at the start of their adult lives. And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that slowing down helps me show up and do that job well.