![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F294336fc-dc3a-426d-9853-93c8212dda63.heic)
Are ya’ll ready for a doozy?
I’ll admit, this probably isn’t the most prideful moment of my life. You can ask my wife and God, I’ve had far more prideful moments than this one.
But it’s this moment that still stands as a core memory of mine. I literally can’t forget it.
+ It’s this moment that has taught me the most about this essential truth from the Bible:
Pride goes before destruction,
and a haughty spirit before a fall.—Proverbs 16:18
So let me set the stage.
In January of 2016 the Lord convicted me to step away from a professional baseball career and specifically, the pursuit of that career.
I had already retired, technically.
In May of 2015 I retired from playing with the Milwaukee Brewers due to an elbow injury. But, my plan all along was to do rehab on my own at home in hopes to play again.
From May 2015-January 2016 I went all in.
Even more all in than what it took to become a professional baseball player in the first place.
I traded bowls of ice cream for bowls of lentils. This is a funny story. I wouldn’t recommend doing this.
I committed to becoming as strong as possible in the weight room.
I molded my life to do whatever it took to be successful as an athlete. I doubled, even tripled, down on doing this.
By the time January 2016 rolled around I was in the best shape of my life. By far.
One indicator of that was the amount of weight I was lifting. A week before I quit for good I did a single leg squat max of 340lbs.
If you need to read that again, you can.
I had one leg on the ground, one foot up on a platform behind me, and I squatted 340 pounds. Then I did it with the other leg.
I tried 360lbs but almost blacked out. Technically I finished the rep but it’s because my two spotters grabbed the bar and picked me up. When I asked for credit they were hesitant to give it to me for some reason.
Anyway.
My point with all that is when I retired from professional baseball I was strong. I was healthy. I was in the best shape of my life.
And I needed a place to work out.
I was working out with a sport specific trainer and knew my time there came to an end with my career.
So where does anybody with very little money and a desire to workout go?
Planet Fitness.
So my wife and I went to PF one night to sign up for an account and this is where things get so blatantly arrogant and prideful by me.
I remember standing at the front desk, looking out at all the equipment, and pausing to examine the squat rack.
I start doing math.
45..45..25..25..
I scoff.
I look at Jackie and say, “The squat racks here don’t even have the amount of weight I can do on one leg! What I can do isn’t even a possibility here.”
I left that night thinking about how awesome I was and how working out at Planet Fitness was going to be a burden for me moving forward.
And guess what?
It was a burden.
So much so that I never went.
And it’s been nearly 10 years and I’ve not worked out consistently since that night.
The pride comes before the fall.
Instead of being humble and being grateful for a place to continue working out and staying healthy, I got prideful.
I started thinking about how I deserved better
I scoffed at the place God had put me
I saw a good gift as a burden
Part of the reason I got prideful is because I was insecure.
What are people going to think when they see a professional athlete working out on these squat racks
What are my friends going to think when I tell them I’m at Planet Fitness
This is so beneath me, I should still be playing professional baseball
Point blank: I was prideful.
And after 8 years of inconsistent workouts, eating somewhat healthy sometimes, and a far more sedentary lifestyle I’m the least healthy I’ve been since high school.
I’ve fallen from the place of strength.
This year, more than any other year, I’m working to reverse the consequences of my pride, but it’s not easy.
So, I’m curious…
Do you have any thing in your life you scoff at?
Is there anything in your world you think you don’t deserve?
Are you scoffing at the humble place God has put you?
In my experience, if the answer to one or more of those questions is yes then we’re setting ourselves up to fall.
And that fall will continue until there is genuine repentance.
God doesn't enjoy watching us fall. His plan is flourishing. But we need to come to Him in humble repentance to enjoy that flourishing.
—Brandon
One of the things I struggle with is pride, especially spiritual pride. 🫣 So I retrain my mind (almost) everyday with this :
My mind is Your mind. My thoughts are Your thoughts. Let me think what You think.
My eyes are Your eyes. Let me see what You see.
My mouth is Your mouth. My words are Your words. Let me speak what You speak.
My ears are Your ears. Let me hear what You hear.
My hands are Your hands. Let me do what You do.
My feet are Your feet. Let me walk where You’ve walked. Lead me.
Following God’s lead is often the hardest thing we can do. Knowing when to end a pursuit that adds to us in both positive and negative ways, is challenging. Years ago I took myself out of worship ministry, not because I wasn’t good, or was having trouble, but because I saw the writing on the wall and knew that if I kept going, I would burn out in the current environment. Years later, an opportunity opened up and I volunteered to sub until they found someone. Two years later, I’m still doing it. The biggest difference is that I’m not coming to the throne with a sense of pride(perceived or otherwise). God continues to bless the offering of worship because of faithfulness to being obedient.
Your story reminds me of Coach Wooden. He pioneered the idea of “Competitive Greatness.” Meaning that in order to be great, you have to be great at the little things. His college basketball teams had it down, even in the way they put on their socks. It’s not the fancy plays or the amount of weight we can lift, it’s the small things that are more likely to trip us up.
Thank you for your article.