Lance Armstrong is in the news again. It’s not for winning a race, being accused of cheating, denying that he cheated or being stripped of his wins because he cheated. It’s not even because he is raising millions for cancer research. He is in the news because he is finally admitting he did, in fact, use steroids.

If you are not familiar with his story it goes something like this. In 1996, Armstrong announced he had been diagnosed with testicular cancer. The cancer spread to his lungs and brain. The diagnosis left little room for hope, but Armstrong fought. He beat cancer. He returned to racing and won the Tour de France a record seven times. He used the notoriety gained from his wins to start the Livestrong Foundation and helped raise nearly 500 million dollars for cancer research.

But while he was winning races and raising money, there were whispers of cheating. He denied the allegations vigorously. Teammates, employees and close friends outed his PED (Performance Enhancing Drug) use, and he fought back. He and his associates bullied, ridiculed, slandered and in some cases ruined the financial lives of those who had the courage to speak up. (Here is an interesting read detailing a few of his tactics.)

Now Armstrong has apologized. I wonder if he will point to the genuine good done by the Livestrong Foundation as an excuse for his behavior. This raises a question; do the ends justify the means? Many have benefited from the Foundation in their fights against cancer. Does it matter that its founder was a cheater? Does it matter that he used his incredible influence to attack and destroy those who told the truth? It absolutely matters.

The ends do not justify the means, because the end cannot be separated from the means. From God’s perspective, the end is not what we do. The end is who we are. God is far less concerned with what we do than with who we are becoming. Forgive me in advance for this overstatement. God doesn’t care that Lance Armstrong helped to raise $500 million for cancer research. God cares about the person Lance Armstrong is becoming. The same is true of us. God cares far less about what you do than who you are becoming. The journey matters.

Who we are is not determined by what we do, it is determined by how we do it. Or to put it another way what we do flows from who we are and how we do things is a window into who we are. Not only do the ends not justify the means, it turns out the means are more important than the ends.

This doesn’t undo the invaluable benefit many have received from the Livestrong Foundation. It simply means we serve an amazing God. Our God is so incredible that he can bring good out of even the most dire and despicable situations. And that should give all of us, including those of us who have lied, cheated and bullied, great comfort.

I am a competitive person. I enjoy healthy, physical competition, so each summer I play in a local softball league. When I was younger, competitive sports were a struggle. I couldn’t have fun if I wasn’t winning and playing well. I am grateful that I have grown to enjoy sports for what they are, a game. I still want to win, but I have learned that I can play recreationally. I have learned to be able to have fun in the face of defeat… as long as I am not the reason the team is losing.

Bryce Harper smashing his bat after a strikeout

I still struggle when I make mistakes, especially mental ones. When they happen I might slam my glove on the bench or slam my bat on the dirt. My wife enjoys coming to my games, but she most definitely does not enjoy my little tantrums. On a number of occasions, she has told me how ridiculous they are and she has lovingly pointed out what a poor example my behavior is for our sons.

This sounds silly and is a little embarrassing, but until my wife pointed out my behavior, I thought nothing of it. I had not considered slamming a glove or shouting at myself to be out of bounds. It was a blind spot. I am growing. I have fewer outbursts and am able to more easily let things go, but the real gift was what my wife’s comments led me to realize about myself.

The root of my childish behavior is not how much I care about winning or playing well. The real reason I throw a tantrum when I misplay a ground ball or pop out I because of what I think my teammates will think of me. I hope they will be less upset with me if they see how angry I am with myself.

At the core of my childish behavior is an overwhelming desire to be liked by people. Without my wife’s willingness to speaking loving truth into my life, I am not sure I would have come to this realization, and without identifying the root of my behavior, I would have been able to be intentional about seeking God’s transformation in this area.

A couple weeks ago my beloved Blackhawks were mired in a miserable 9 game losing streak.  The only positive to the slump seemed to be the late start times on the west coast that saved me the disappointment of watching.  But last week the Hawks turned things around.  They have gone on to win four straight, and it turns out the late games weren’t the only good thing about the slump.  A common refrain in the Hawks’ locker room recently has been that the lessons they learned in the slump are what led them to beat the hated Red Wings, an extremely hot Blues team, and the point leading Rangers.

It is interesting how it can take struggles for us to grow.  When we are rolling along like the Hawks were at the start of the season, we can become complacent.  We tend to believe we have everything together and we can sweep our shortcomings under the rug.  Anyone with an ounce of hockey sense could see months ago that the Hawks were struggling on special teams (the power play and penalty kill) and that the goaltender play was not up to par.  But when you continue to win it’s easy to ignore the deficiencies… until they jump up and bite you.

That’s exactly what happened when the Hawks went on their skid, but here they are in the midst of a four game win streak because the losing streak forced them to tighten up the penalty kill and Corey Crawford has made some adjustments in net (now if we can just get that power play rolling).

So why am I writing about the Blackhawks’ turn around in a blog about faith?  In the same way that struggles initiated growth for the Hawks, I believe that struggle is an important catalyst for growth in our lives as well.  I’ve always said that I believe we will grow more through a month of trials than a year of good times.  When times are good we get comfortable.  We lose our intention toward growth, and we often do whatever we can to protect our comfort.  In tough times our struggles come front and center.  We lose our masks and are forced to look in the mirror and see ourselves for who we really are.  In the middle of struggles we tend to be more willing to do the hard work necessary for growth.

What if we were to embrace struggle? I don’t mean to suggest that we take embracing our struggles to the extreme and wallow in our pain, but what if we embrace it for the opportunity that it is?  What if we saw the challenges we face not as something to avoid or survive, but something to wade into and thrive in the midst of?  As we enter the Lenten season, a time of reflection on the passion of Jesus, what if we committed to change the way we view trials and pain?  What if we start to see them as the chance to grow?  What if we decide to see them as an important catalyst for our transformation into the people that God created us to be?