When the Board Doesn’t Break

What a missed board, brain surgery, and faith taught me about second chances.

One of the things students quickly learn during board breaking is that they get three chances to break the board.

Some students strike the board and it snaps immediately with a loud crack. The smile on their face says everything.

But sometimes the board doesn’t break.

When that happens, something important occurs. No one says the student failed. No one sends them off the mat. Instead, we simply reset, take a breath, refocus, and try again.

Often, that second attempt becomes the real lesson.

Because sometimes in life our boards don’t break on the first try.

A test doesn’t go well.
A goal takes longer than expected.
A moment of doubt causes us to lose focus.

Just like on the mat, the first attempt doesn’t define the outcome.

What matters most is what we do next.

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One of My Second Chance Moments

When I was testing for my Black Belt, I experienced this lesson firsthand.

One of my boards didn’t break on the first attempt.

For just a split second, I lost focus. My kick was slightly off, and instead of hearing that satisfying crack, the board stayed intact.

I’ll be honest—I felt disappointed in myself. I knew I could do it, and part of me wished I had broken it on the first try.

But I was also thankful for the opportunity to reset.

I stepped back, took a breath, refocused, and tried again.

The second kick broke the board.

That moment stayed with me. Not because the board eventually broke—but because it reminded me that even when we miss the first time, we still have the chance to adjust, refocus, and try again.

And that wasn’t the only time in my life I needed a second chance.

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A Second Chance Much Bigger Than a Board Break

Recently, I received a second chance in something much more important than breaking a board.

For several months I had been experiencing memory issues and periods of confusion. Eventually I went to the emergency room, and tests revealed a very large brain tumor.

Things moved incredibly fast after that.

Within hours I was scheduled for emergency brain surgery. The doctors successfully removed a tumor about the size of a tennis ball.

Now I am preparing to begin radiation and chemotherapy treatments.

The diagnosis and surgery happened so quickly that I really didn’t have time to process it. It was over before I fully understood what was happening. For my wife and family, though, it was a much longer and more emotional experience.

There are a few moments from that day that I remember very clearly.

When the surgical team came in to begin putting me under anesthesia, I decided it was important for me to fist bump the doctors before surgery. I don’t know exactly why, but it felt important to me.

At our school we fist bump before class. I enjoy that moment of connection with every student, every day. It’s a small thing, but it means something to me.

So I decided I was going to fight the anesthesia just long enough to get those fist bumps.

At some point I realized I wasn’t going to win that battle. The medication was stronger than my plan, and I remember feeling a little disappointed that I wasn’t going to get those fist bumps in.

Another moment I remember clearly was being rolled out of the pre-op room on my way to surgery.

I was lying on my back looking up as we moved down the hallway. The lights above were extraordinarily bright, and the hallway felt very cold. We were moving quickly, and there was a whole team of people around me moving with purpose and urgency.

As we passed people in the hallway, I noticed many of them looking in our direction—almost staring.

Then I turned my head.

In that moment, I felt an overwhelming sense that Jesus was right there beside me.

Suddenly everything changed. A deep calm and comfort came over me. The fear disappeared.

I realized that I wasn’t alone.

At that point I stopped fighting the anesthesia and simply let go.

No fist bump.

When I woke up after surgery, the first thing I remember was seeing the surgeon. He told me the operation had gone well and that they had successfully removed the tumor.

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A Second Chance Still in Progress

This second chance is not over yet. In many ways, it is just beginning.

I know the road ahead will be long, and it will likely include both highs and lows. But deep in my heart and in my soul, I believe I was given this second chance for a reason. I believe there is still a purpose for me to fulfill.

When our boards don’t break on the first try, sometimes we need a lesson in perseverance. Sometimes we need a reminder about humility. Sometimes we simply need to slow down, refocus, and try again.

When I first heard the doctors share the diagnosis, my mind immediately went back to a sermon I heard many years ago.

Pastor Marc Brown once talked about how God desires a relationship with each one of us. He wants our attention. And sometimes life has a way of slowing us down so that we finally stop long enough to listen.

As my mind absorbed the news that nobody ever wants to hear, I remember having a very unexpected thought.

“How lucky am I.”

How lucky am I that my God loves me so much—me, the imperfect sinner that I am—that He would want me to slow down and spend time in a relationship with Him.

In many ways, this season of my life feels like stepping back up to the line.

Taking a breath.
Refocusing.
Preparing for the next attempt.

The road ahead will require perseverance, faith, and courage—the same lessons we practice every day on the mat.

Instead of seeing only fear or uncertainty, I began to see something else.

A second chance.

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Stepping Back Up to the Line

In class, when a board doesn’t break, we simply step back, take a breath, refocus, and try again.

The lessons we practice on the mat—focus, perseverance, and courage—are not just for Taekwondo. They are the same lessons that carry us through life’s biggest challenges.

Life will give all of us moments when things don’t go the way we planned. Sometimes we lose focus. Sometimes we face obstacles we never expected. Sometimes the challenge in front of us feels far bigger than a wooden board.

But what matters most is what we do next.

Do we step away… or do we step back up to the line?

Second chances are powerful gifts. They remind us that failure is not the end of the story. They remind us that perseverance matters. They remind us that we are stronger than we sometimes believe.

For me, this second chance is about faith, gratitude, and purpose. It is a reminder that every day is a gift and that there is still work to do.

So the next time your board doesn’t break on the first try, remember this:

Take a breath.
Refocus.
Trust yourself.
And step back up to the line.

Because sometimes the most important breaks in life happen on the second—or even the third—attempt.

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Every time we bow onto the mat, we are practicing more than kicks and punches.
We are practicing perseverance, faith, and courage.
Those are the qualities that truly Build Champions in Life.