Faith in the head keeps score; faith in the heart changes the game. Here’s why moving out of your head and into your heart makes all the difference.

Baseball season is winding down again. It’s all over except for the playoffs, and you may or may not be into these last games unless your team is still playing. Mine is not, making me mildly interested in what happens now, but beyond that, it’s: “How many days until spring training?” Oh well, when it comes to baseball, hope always springs eternal.

Depending on where I lived, I’ve been a fan of four teams in my life — the Dodgers, Giants, Red Sox, and now the Angels. It’s always been my policy to support the local team. In each case, there came a moment when I shifted from being a casual fan to a committed one. That transition reminds me of the difference between being a Christian in my head and living as a Christian from my heart.

When we moved back to Southern California, the Los Angeles Angels’ stadium in Anaheim was in my backyard. For a couple of years, I attended some games and kept an eye on the standings, but it was still a casual interest. Then came 2002 — the year the Angels went all the way to the World Series. Suddenly, I was hooked. That Christmas, Marti gave me a spring training package, and that sealed it. I’ve attended a couple spring training games every year since.

Spring training isn’t about stats or scores. It’s about sunshine, the desert air, and getting close enough to see players becoming who they were meant to be. It wasn’t just watching a game anymore; I felt like I was part of the family. The camaraderie and connection pulled me in, and my involvement in the game moved from my head into my heart.

A few seasons later, you can only imagine my delight when my son Chandler found purpose in baseball when attending a father-son program, the Indian Guides, and as a result, I developed relationships with other dads whose boys were also growing from the inside out. Would you believe one of the dads happened to be the President of the Angels franchise, and I moved a step closer to this team. Experiencing our son’s growth through our numerous outings lent a level of vulnerability and humility that left behind any sense I might have had of awe or a desire to impress.

And that’s also what happens with faith. In your head, it’s all numbers and facts. You can quote Scripture, recall church teaching, and keep score — but it doesn’t change you. In your heart, though, faith comes alive. You don’t have to talk yourself into courage; the Spirit provides it. Love compels you outward.

This is where many men get stuck. We live in our heads because control feels safer. But when you move into your heart, you discover your identity and worth don’t come from performance — they come from Christ. And when you know who you are, you’re free to give yourself away.

It’s not enough to sit in the stands and keep score. To live from the heart, you have to step onto the field, risk vulnerability, and love with abandon. And one day, when heaven’s gates swing open, it won’t be your stats that count — it will be your heart alive in Christ. Then the cheering will rise, louder than any World Series, echoing forever in God’s kingdom.