It was the 1929 Rose Bowl, California versus Georgia Tech.
Late in the second quarter, Cal’s Roy Riegels scooped up a fumble and took off down the field for the end zone. The crowd roared as he sprinted 65 yards with all his heart.
But there was one problem:
He was running the wrong way.
His own teammate had to tackle him near the goal line to keep him from scoring for the other team.
On the next series, Cal was forced to punt from deep inside their own end zone. Georgia Tech blocked the kick, scored two points, and went on to win 8–7.
For the rest of his life, Roy carried the nickname “Wrong-Way Riegels.”
This story illustrates a key lesson about living a virtuous life:
It matters which direction you’re facing.
The world often tells us that purpose is defined by passion. We’ve all heard it: when someone dies doing something risky—like bungee jumping or free solo climbing—people say, “Well, at least he died doing what he loved.” The implication is that passion alone justifies the outcome.
Meanwhile, many churchgoers have been told the opposite: that holiness is defined by avoiding bad habits. When I was a teenager, some in my church believed that playing cards or going to a movie theater was a sin. Their version of holiness was built on “dos and don’ts.”
Both approaches miss the mark.
The first says only passion matters—just follow your heart wherever it leads. The second says only direction matters—just keep the rules and you’re holy.
But true holiness is not found in passion alone or rule-keeping alone, although they both play a role.
Positional vs. Relational Holiness
First, we need to define holiness.
The unique message of the Gospel is that everyone who trusts in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ receives what we might call “positional” holiness. Heaven’s court has declared us “not guilty.” Paul says believers are “seated in the heavenly places in Christ” (Ephesians 2:6). That’s not something a man can earn or win by good works. Our salvation (and our “position”) is secure because of God’s promise to His Son.
But there’s also what we might call “relational” holiness. This has to do with the condition of a man’s heart and his ongoing fellowship with God.
Another way to put it is this: our experience of holiness isn’t based on what we do for God, but on what we allow Him to do in us.
Positional holiness was made possible by Jesus’ surrender to the Father’s plan for all mankind 2,000 years ago.
Relational holiness is made possible by your surrender to the Father’s plan today.
Our experience of holiness isn’t based on what we do for God, but on what we allow Him to do in us.
Create in Me…Give Me…Lead Me
Scripture gives us a pattern for how this works. Here are three biblical heart prayers among the many you can find:
- “Create in me a pure heart…” (Psalm 51:10).
- “Give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name…” (Psalm 86:11).
- “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one…” (Matthew 6:13).
Notice the common theme: holiness isn’t achieved by trying harder—it’s received as God reshapes our hearts. Let’s explore each of these prayers a little more.
A Trade-In, Not a Tune-Up
My father worked as a sales rep for a hardware company. Every two years, he traded in his high-mileage company car for a new one. As kids, we loved that fresh “new car smell.” Dad never owned those cars, but he always had the privilege of driving something new.
Relational holiness is like that. It’s not about patching up our old hearts with minor repairs. It’s a complete trade-in. We surrender our motives and desires, and God gives us something new—something He has formed.
When I was younger, most of my prayers were requests for help to “try harder.” But that cycle of effort and failure always left me feeling defeated.
What I’ve learned is that God doesn’t just repair a heart that has grown cold or been warped by sin—He replaces it: “I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh” (Ezekiel 36:26).
Wholeheartedness
These days, my prayers for holiness sound more like this: “Lord, I love something I shouldn’t, and I can’t change myself. I give my heart to You. Make it new and pure.”
I also pray with the Psalmist: “Give me an undivided heart, that I may fear Your name” (Psalm 86:11). That prayer reminds me of Jeremiah 17:9: “The heart is deceitful above all things.” My heart can trick me into thinking I’m “all good” when my loyalties are divided.
These days, my prayers for holiness sound more like this: “Lord, I love something I shouldn’t, and I can’t change myself. I give my heart to You. Make it new and pure.”
That’s why relational holiness is about surrender. It’s offering the fractured pieces of a man’s heart to God so He can make them whole. Because there is power in wholeheartedness. A heart fully devoted to the Lord will eventually reveal the true worth—or worthlessness—of whatever it pursues.
Lead Me
That brings us to the third prayer: “Lead me.”
These words come from the Lord’s Prayer: “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one” (Matthew 6:13).
Taken together—create in me, give me, lead me—we see a pattern of inviting God to do the work in us. These are not prayers of self-effort. They are prayers of surrender.
And the “lead me” prayer ties directly back to our opening story of Wrong-Way Riegels. Direction matters. We’re asking God to guide us away from temptation, away from the traps of the enemy, and into His will.
The truth is, our hearts are easily deceived. None of us can outthink the devil or resist his schemes on our own. But when we pray, “Lead me,” we are handing the compass back to God. We are asking Him to steer not only our actions, but our thoughts, our desires, and our direction in life.
Conclusion
Roy Riegels ran with passion, but passion in the wrong direction cost his team the game. Holiness works the same way. It’s not just about effort—it’s about direction.
You cannot rest on past victories. Nor are you bound by past defeats.
Which way are the desires of your heart leading you today?
If you feel stuck in the cycle of effort and failure, stop trying to fix yourself with a tune-up. Trade in your heart. Ask God to make it new. Ask Him to give you an undivided heart. Ask Him to lead you away from the enemy’s traps and guide you into a more intimate walk with Him. Let God’s Spirit do the heavy lifting for you.
Then get ready for a radical increase in your level of peace—the fruit of a Holy Life.
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