Southlake, Texas, native John Henson wrote the following testimony expounding upon a players’ panel held on the University of Arkansas campus, where he recounted the spiritual impact made on him as a result of the recent Arkansas and Texas A&M football game.

On September 27, 2014, 76,000 fans packed into AT&T Stadium in Arlington, Texas, one of the most desirable game destinations in all of football. The Arkansas Razorbacks were playing the then-ranked number 6, undefeated Aggies from Texas A&M. The game was on CBS prime time; a 3:30 pm kick off.  Ratings suggested 20 million plus people were watching on TV.

Here is the scenario: There were just under two and a half minutes left in the fourth quarter, Arkansas up by a touchdown, 28-21. The Razorbacks had been driving down the field, milking the clock until they hit a dead end on the left hash, 27-yard line of Texas A&M. Logically, Coach Bret Bielema sends his specialists out for the 44-yard field goal attempt, which would put his team up by 10, and make a comeback impossible for the Aggies. However, the kick was pulled left.Texas A&M immediately scored a touchdown following the missed attempt. The Aggies went on to win the game in overtime 35-28.

The kicker was me.

I want to urge readers to step out of their spectating lenses and step into the mind of a key character in this short scenario. I would like to invite anyone willing, to walk through my carnal, struggling mind. A mind filled with the very Spirit of God, while at the same time, the attacking voices of my own head and the world.  My desire is to be raw and as real as I can. This situation was more than a missed kick attempt, more than a big rivalry game, more than football. This was God—God in motion.

A question I’ve received several times since that game has been:  What was that struggle like, and how did you deal with it?

While preparing for any kick, I think about how God created me uniquely at 5-10, 172 pounds. I think about how He has let me generate a violent force through my right leg to make an oval ball go in the air, and how He sustains and fires all the muscle fibers involved in that process. So, when I use those muscles in the funky motion of kicking a leather ball, I am worshiping God just like I would on Sunday morning singing praise songs.

Make or miss, I am loved by Him, a love that is solely based on His love for me, not my performance. God approves me for eternity by the bloodshed of Jesus on the cross, not by my made or missed kicks. At this stage in my life my worshipping act is kicking a football. This is my mindset going into a kick.

Now, when I missed that field goal against the Aggies, I forgot all of that. I blamed myself. I felt that it was totally my fault we lost that SEC contest.

I could not look my teammates in the eyes. I gave my all, but the ball didn’t go through the up rights.

I did not sleep that night or the next. The game was a Saturday, and I didn’t eat until dinner on Monday. I care for my teammates, my coaches, and my own personal effort. If I am being completely honest, I was thoroughly disappointed in myself. I think it would be a red flag if I just didn’t care.

These were all internal pressures I was putting on myself, but they increased under the massive microscope of college football.

From the moment I walked off the field, while we were still winning, cursing threats came from behind me. Threats on social media were probably the most difficult. I got looks of disgust in class, people actually did whisper and point, like a cheesy movie with soft depressing music playing in the background. Things like that happened the week after. Regardless, it is a really hard thing to deal with when I’m told to keep my head low for a while in Fayetteville, because they are disappointed with my performance. Or people tell me I am a waste of a scholarship or a sports analyst feels inclined to let me know I am a poor excuse for Arkansas’ kick game.

Just because I am a Christian, it doesn’t mean I didn’t feel the weight of myself, or that of 20-something-million people seeing me fail. It is something I wish no 18-23-year-old to go through.

I dealt with it by going back to the foundational truths that define who I am: in Christ. I know a response is a must, and people watch you most closely during times like these.

I responded by remembering that even though my circumstances may change, God does not. His plan for me has not changed. His character has not changed. And my true purpose on the team has not changed. It is not by accident that my locker is positioned between two other guys on the team. It is not an accident that I spend 40 plus hours a week with eight other specialists who I care deeply about. I want them to know there is a God who also cares deeply about them, and literally loves them to death. I respond by remembering that Christ has me in the exact spot I am supposed to be in, to partake in His work. The message of Christ’s love has nothing to do with where I am on the depth chart, or how I influence the result of a football game, or how I perform in front of millions of people. Notice the repetition of “I” and how it’s all about “my” circumstances. It just might have taken this failure in my life to get me to realize God isn’t so concerned with how many stats I can rack up. In fact, I would dare to say He doesn’t really care who wins the college playoffs this year. I think He is more concerned with who will be in His Kingdom.

It is a beautiful design to compete for the glory of God. It did change the way I train, compete, and view the way I play football. But to forget my purpose would be far more damaging than anyone’s opinion of me. Which maybe I did forget. Perhaps, this worldly failure was the Lord’s way of showing me what He is really all about, which is His glory, His name, and the fact that He allows me to join His work on the Arkansas football team. When I think of it like this, it becomes very clear; God’s work on my team versus converting a field goal to win a game. Just maybe, God knew how to draw me closer to Him. Maybe He knew how to teach me more about the depth of His love and grace for me. Maybe He is doing this through a missed field goal. For that alone, I am thankful.

I know God is in control, and I respond by surrendering to that control and spreading the gospel, regardless of how much or little fans approve of my performance on a field. In light of eternity, if I cling to my life as defined by stats, or even one made kick, I think I would be severely disappointed in the lack of fulfillment that I thought would be in athletic performance. One thing I have learned through this, truly, is explained in the quote: “The only one who can satisfy the human heart is the one who made it.”

He can sustain through any circumstance.  It is becoming tangible for me that “to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” (Philippians 1:21)

John Henson University of Arkansas Football, Place Kicker, #43 Senior, Marketing Major

Originally published November 2014

Photos courtesy of Razorbacks Communications and University of Arkansas Athletics