I got the news a month into my sixth professional season. The San Jose Barracudas, the affiliate to the San Jose Sharks, wanted to call me up to the next level.
I was ecstatic. 
 
The news came at 11:00 am after our practice in Allen. By 5:00 pm, I moved out of my apartment and was on a flight to San Jose with no idea when I would return. 
This call-up was not my first. Three years prior, I skated with the Lake Erie Monsters (affiliate to the Colorado Avalanche) for a month. The previous year, I finished the regular season with the Milwaukee Admirals (affiliate to the Nashville Predators). 
 
I was on the brink of making it to the AHL level. My career was developing. The previous year, I led the ECHL in goals, served as a captain in Allen, and we won the ECHL championship (the Kelly Cup) as a first-year team in the league. I was climbing towards my dream of sticking in the AHL and earning a shot in the NHL. I was hopeful this trip to San Jose would be the final catalyst.

The next morning, I joined the Barracuda for practice. The speed, sharpness, and attention to detail, and pressure to perform were higher than the ECHL. The team carried more players, many with NHL experience, so the practice tempo was faster. There were also more coaches on the ice, so accountability was stricter. It was the next level. 
 
During the week, I received an opportunity few ECHL call-ups ever get. The coaching staff rostered me on a top line and included me on special teams. Such an opportunity was rare. Oftentimes, ECHL call-up players play minor fill-in roles. They get less ice time and little special teams responsibility until an AHL player returns from the NHL or injury. 
 
As a result, I was extremely encouraged. I made the transition to a new organization, on-ice systems, expectations, and living situation well. The position I was in helped me to not “overthink drills, compare myself with others, or dwell on what the Barracuda coaches thought. I was confident, hopeful, and eager for the first game. 
 
After three days of practice, game day arrived, and it was an eye-opener. I was caught off guard by the speed of the game. I turned the puck over in the defensive zone twice as a centerman. I knew Coach was not happy. As I sat on the bench waiting for my next shift, I felt insecurity rise and fill my thoughts.

As we headed into the locker room for the first intermission, I overheard coach walking ahead of me. “What is Steffes doing?” he said to the assistants in frustration. Now I was sure coach was losing confidence in me. 
 
Adversity had struck. 
 
My ice time slowly lessened as the game progressed. I lost power play opportunities and moved to a different line. Instead of playing regular shifts, I saw irregular ice time. 
 
I fought to win in my heart and mind. I repeatedly declared “God is in control. I won’t be here one day longer, or one day shorter than God has planned. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I am here to impact lives. Trust God. Keep fighting forward.” I battled, but fear, lies, doubts, and comparison traps were relentless. Frustration and anger at my performance and the first impression was making increased internally as the game continued. 
 
I finished the game as excellent as I could. Mentally, I felt shaken. I needed to regain confidence in my abilities and find a way to trust God after my first game did not go well. I knew the coaches questioned me, which made it hard to not be distracted. I felt like I was on thin ice, one mistake away from being sent back to Allen.

Over the next 24 hours, I sought God’s Presence and filled my mind with His promises. I meditated on my God-given name, God-given purpose, and took thoughts captive with my God-given Sword. I spoke with certain people who helped me process emotions and regain perspective. 
 
The next day, the coaching staff posted “the lineup—I was scratched. A host of emotions rose in me again. This time I was embarrassed and wanted to hide. I went from skating with top players to sitting out of the lineup in a matter of days. The barrage of fears, doubts, and lies struck again. 
 
Thankfully, I responded with resilience. I embraced the situation and joined my other teammates who were not dressing in the stands. I chose to look for opportunities to love on them instead of sulking in how I felt. 
 
Two days later, we hit the road for two games. The first was to play the Ontario Reign, the affiliate to the Los Angeles Kings, and afterward the San Diego Gulls, the affiliate to the Anaheim Ducks. Fully capable of sending me back to Allen, San Jose decided to keep me on the roster, which was a significant encouragement.

The coaching staff posted the lineup our next game in Ontario. I was in—another chance. However, the game started even worse than the first. Four minutes in, during my first shift, the puck went from goal line to blueline in the defensive zone. A slapshot from the point and quick rebound for Ontario put them up 1–0. The second shift of the game, our line gave up another goal. I can count on one hand the number of shifts I played the rest of the night. 
 
The next morning, the coaching staff called me down to meet in the lobby before the bus took off to San Diego. Their words cut like a knife. “You weren’t what we expected Stef. We are sending you back to Allen.”  
 
I stood next to the elevator as pride rose in me to want to defend myself. Anger came next at them, then at God, then at the situation. I knew I had not performed the greatest, but in my mind, it was only two games. I had finished the previous season with Milwaukee in the AHL, won a Kelly Cup with Allen, been named to the ECHL second team, led the ECHL in goals with 44, and set the single-season goal scoring record in Allen. The toughest part was to be written off so quickly with such finality. “You weren’t what we expected Stef.” 
 
As time from the news progressed, lies about my worth and abilities increased. I felt like a letdown and failure. I wondered if I was an embarrassment to my team and coach back in Allen. I felt fear of what others thought. I doubted if I still had what it took to play at that level. I battled to not compare myself with others, especially with those that were called-up to replace me that day. I fought hard not to let pride, anger, jealousy, and bitterness take root in my heart. 
 
As athletes, the mental battle against lies, fears, doubts, and comparison traps is real. Every day is different, and the pressures are unlike many other professions in the world. One day we feel confident and secure, and the next we are wondering if we still have a job. One shift we feel Coach trusts us, and the next we are unsure if we are wanted on the team. Every day is a mental battle we must be prepared to fight.

“You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you because he trusts in you. Trust in the LORD forever, for the LORD GOD is an everlasting rock.” 
– Isaiah 26:3–4 ESV 
 
When our MIND is fixed on Jesus and our HEART trusts in Him, He promises perfect peace. Perfect peace is powerful soil for confidence.