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HE SAID I CAN BE HERE.
Sam called with a simple ask "Do you want to go to Miami?" Zach knew exactly what Sam meant. The national championship. Before he asked for details, a ticket or how it would work, he said yes.
— Sometimes the calling comes before the clarity. A man doesn't always need the map if he trusts the voice. "Go," the Lord said to Abram, "and I will show you the land." (Genesis 12:1)
Monday morning Zach found himself airborne chasing a sunrise and headed to Miami with nothing but a backpack. He landed mid-morning and took an Uber straight to the stadium, not knowing where he'd sit, what he'd do, or where exactly to go. All he knew was Sam told him to go—and that was enough.
— Faith often packs light. Just enough to obey, not enough to control. "We walk by faith, not by sight." (2 Corinthians 5:7)
The stadium loomed like a fortress. Security stretched far and was wound as tight as a drum. Police and Guards were everywhere. Some vests didn't just say "Security," but "Secret Service." He knew what that meant. The president was in town.
Sam told Zach to wait outside. So he waited. He stood outside like a man with a promise and no proof. Heat rolled off the pavement, time stretching like an old barbed-wire fence. Ten minutes became thirty. Thirty became an hour. The cops and security continued to question him, and all he could say was, "I was told to wait here. ESPN folks are coming to get me."
— Waiting will tell you real quick what you're trusting. "Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength." — Isaiah 40:31
Finally, a golf cart rolled up with a driver named Sutton and a man in a security jacket. Zach jumped in, hopeful—but there was a problem. No badge. No wristband. No ticket. And around here, not even the cops got in without credentials.
They stopped at the checkpoint. The guard looked at Zach. "Credentials?" Sutton didn't blink. Before Zach could respond, she answered: "He's with Sam Acho. His credentials are inside." The gate opened. No matter how big the fence, there's always Someone bigger running the land. Inside, the road curved strangely. Zach squinted. "Are we on an F1 track?"
"Yes."
Turns out the road to the ESPN media room ran straight over a Formula One racetrack. Zach smiled to himself. Not bad for a day that started with nothing but a little faith and a backpack.
— The Lord has a habit of paving roads you didn't know you were worthy to walk.
Inside the media room were more legends than a Texas tall tale—Rece Davis, Kirk Herbstreit, Desmond Howard, Booger McFarland, Nick Saban, Jimbo Fisher, Molly McGrath, Scott Van Pelt and 50 more names than Zach could count. He shook hands he'd only ever seen on TV. Still, he hadn't seen Sam.
His phone buzzed. It was Sam. "Come to the set." Another golf cart ride, this time through crowds and cables, until Zach found himself backstage at College Football Live. Sam sat there, live on air, grinning with his million dollar simile. When the cameras cut, Sam pulled Zach into a hug and welcomed him like family.
— Grace has a way of making strangers feel like sons.
They hopped in the cart and headed back to the ESPN room. They talked with Tebow. They laughed. They stood in rooms Zach had no business being in as Sam introduced him to dozens of his colleagues and friends. For Zach, it was awesome to get a glimpse into his world. It helped him know Sam better.
Zach also heard stories from camera operators, barbers, producers—the folks who keep the whole train moving. Zach listened close. He knew magic usually happens behind the curtain. Most of the work that matters never gets its name called.
When it came time for the game, Zach's red badge said media room only. The field was off-limits. The sideline was a no-go. I'm not sure the stands were even an option. But Sam looked at him and said, "Walk with me. Let's see what happens."
— That's how the kingdom works. Walk close. Leave the rest to Him.
They walked up to security by the end zone. Sam scanned his badge. Green light. Then they looked at Zach "Credentials?" Before Zach could answer, Sam said, "He's with me."
And just like that, Zach was standing on the field as players warmed up and was shaking referees' hands. Kirk Herbstreit stood on the logo with his dog, talking to Sam about soaking in the moment. They threw up the U hand sign with Ray Lewis and Michael Phelps and talked with them like old friends. Tom Brady shook their hands and Sam asked how life had been since football.
Countdown to kickoff was winding down. They found themselves on the Miami sideline three yards from the field, surrounded by faces that felt like movie characters. Michael Irvin, Ed Reed, Jake Paul, Cam Ward, Ray Lewis and Michael Phelps. Sam found his old friend and teammate Calais Campbell.
Fire erupted, and the teams ran on the field. Then the national anthem rang. Calais and Sam stood shoulder to shoulder, hand over heart, just as they did years ago as teammates.
Mid-anthem the crowd erupted. They looked up and there he was—the 43rd and 45th president, Donald J. Trump. The noise shook the building. Cheers louder than thunder, with a few roaring boos mixed in. A response only Trump could stir.
Then the game kicked off.
Miami fought hard but couldn't gain yards. Indiana took a first half lead. At halftime they walked to the Indiana sideline for Sam And Stormy's halftime segment. Once they wrapped up, Sam looked at Zach. "I have to use the restroom, I'll be right back." Zach talked with Stormy for a few minutes until she was called to her next job.
All of the sudden, Zach was alone - no pass, no proof, no Sam to vouch. Zach quickly walked to a crowd to look like he belonged. But in the brief moment he was in the open, he was caught.
"Where are your credentials?" Zach had nothing to show. The guard continued to question. Eventually he concluded, "So you are on the field with no credentials? You don't have a ticket. You didn't play college football. You're not an analyst. How are you here?"
Zach's smiled and shrugged. "Sam said I could be here." He needed proof. He needed to hear it from Sam himself. He sent him back through the tunnel and had him stand under the bleachers with a guard.
— Every trail has one more fence than you expect.
A few minutes later Sam returned with his security escort. "Let him back in, he's with me." That's all it took. No badge, no credentials, just Sam's word, and Zach was in.
— "If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed." (John 8:36)
The second half was underway. Miami fought hard. Indiana finished stronger. When the clock hit zero, the field flooded with joy and heartbreak all at once. Zach found himself standing two feet from Mendoza and Dorris Burke, photobombing national television mid interview. Within the next fifteen minutes, Zach had no fewer than five hundred folks reach out, and the messages kept rolling in long after the sun went down. So many people asked him how he ended up on that field that he finally decided to put it all down in a journal. Anytime someone asked, he'd just tip his hat their way and send them that entry.
By the time the dust settled the next day, he realized he'd shared the gospel with about half the contacts in his phone, just by passing along that journal. He even was called up for Sam's podcast to talk about the story and faith, and a buddy of his used it in a sermon later on. Funny how the Lord drops things in your lap like that—no warning, no fanfare—just a gift you didn't see coming.
They watched the trophy ceremony, High-fived Mark Cuban and saw a mother with MS glowing with pride for her quarterback sons who were both now champions. We shook her and her husbands hand, and realized this family was special. Despite her condition, their love for each other was louder than pain, their grace louder than circumstance.
Finally at 1 a.m., they found themselves photobombing the background of the Scott Van Pelt show. They were in the end zone, soaking it all in… just as Herbstreet had advised. They left the field the same way They entered—golf cart, F1 track, excitement. There was a spirit of thankfulness and a quiet exhaustion. When they arrived at the hotel, they went upstairs, laid down and talked about the night well past 3am.
— Some nights feel borrowed, like you'll give them back someday. This was one of those nights.
As Zach closed his eyes, his memory reminded him of an old story and truth. The story begins with the question he was asked by security,
"Zach how did you get in? How are you here?"
He didn't have credentials.
He didn't play college football.
He
don't work for ESPN.
He didn't earn it.
And the answer was simple.
"I'm with Sam."
That's it.
It was eerily similar to another story. One that was that older, more relevant. One that was timeless. Eternal.
It was the story of a man with no resume. No works. No proof.
"What are you doing here?"
It was same question Zach was asked.
"I don't know?"
His answer was true. He didn't know. Just moments earlier this man was taking his final breaths, hanging on a cross as a punishment for his crimes as a thief. Now this man found himself at eternity's gates, with a security of angles questioning him.
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"I don't know."
"Excuse me, let me get my supervisor."
They moved to a new room, filled with white glowing walls and a towering angel.
"So, sir, just a few questions for you. First of all, are you clear on the doctrine of justification by faith?"
The man said, "I've never heard of it in my life."
"And what about the doctrine of Scripture?"
This man is staring at this point, as if he's hearing a foreign language. Eventually, in frustration, the supervisor says, "On what basis are you here?"
It was a simple answer, "The Man on the middle cross said I can come."
— One sentence can carry more weight than a lifetime of explaining. "There is now no condemnation." — Romans 8:1
That is the only answer. That is the only answer. And if I don't preach the gospel to myself all day and every day, then I will find myself beginning to trust myself, trust my experience, which is part of my fallenness as a man. If I take my eyes off the cross, I can then give only lip service to its efficacy, while at the same time living as if my salvation depends upon me. And as soon as you go there, it will lead you either to abject despair or a horrible kind of arrogance.
It is only the cross of Christ that deals both with the dreadful depths of despair and the pretentious arrogance of the pride of man that says, "You know, I can figure this out," and "I'm doing wonderfully well." No, because the sinless Savior died, my sinful soul is counted free. For God the just is satisfied to look on him and pardon me. That's why Luther says most of your Christian life is outside of you, in this sense that we know that we're not saved by good works. We're not saved as a result of our professions, but we're saved as a result of what Christ has achieved.
It was the same story. When Zach was at the championship game there was only one reason he was on the field surrounded by the legends. Because Sam said he could be there.
When we get to heaven it will be that answer and that answer only. Zach, Why are you here? What are your credentials? What did you do to deserve being here? "Nothing", we will say. Only that the man on the middle cross that I could be here and I accepted the invitation. And there we will be, surrounded by all the legends of the faith, watching the great show of eternity play out, as we walk alongside the one who qualified us to be there.
HE SAID I CAN BE HERE.