I’m no Real Madrid fan. Let’s get that out of the way.
But I was listening to a football podcast recently, and something in it stayed with me. It was one of those conversations that starts with tactics and ends up sounding suspiciously religious. They were talking about Xabi Alonso, who has taken over from Carlo Ancelotti at Real Madrid – his style, his method, his mindset.
And what struck me most wasn’t his success or his reputation. It was how differently he thinks.
They said Alonso isn’t the kind of coach who drills a formation into his players and tells them to stick with it no matter what. He doesn’t just say “play 3-4-3” and call it leadership. He trains his players to read the game. To see what’s happening in real time. To notice the pressure building in one pocket of the pitch or the space opening up somewhere else. To adapt, to move, to respond.
Not by abandoning their identity – but by staying awake and responding.
That word kept ringing in my ears. Respond.
Alonso is the one who turned Bayer Leverkusen into “Neverlusen” – a team once mocked for always finishing second, now undefeated, unified, alive. But it wasn’t magic. It was awareness. It was the kind of leadership that didn’t just build structure but taught people how to recognise the moment they were in. To shift when the game shifted. To be empowered to carry wisdom onto the pitch and use it well.
And I found myself wondering – isn’t that exactly what the Christian journey is meant to be?
We talk a lot about formation and structure in the Church. And I believe in it. I believe in rooted rhythms, in patterns, in the structures that holds us together and reminds us who we are. But I’m not sure that formation, on its own, can carry us through a world like this.
Because the world is shifting. Fast. And I wonder if our perspective on discipleship needs to shift too.
Not to lose our shape. But to become more responsive.
Because if formation and structure is the drill, then discernment is the movement. And maybe God is asking us not to choose between them, but to learn how to hold both.
Could it be that the wild Holy Spirit is drawing us out of formation not to scatter us, but to strengthen us?
I think of Jesus. Constantly stepping out of the expected formation. Walking into homes when the rule said don’t. Pausing in the wilderness when the schedule said move. Not careless. Not completely chaotic. But courageous. Just right. Some might say chaordic – that strange meeting point between chaos and order. Constantly attuned to where God’s presence was opening up space – and willing to follow it, even when it looked like the edge of the map.
And I think of the Holy Spirit. Wind. Breath. Wildness. That Spirit has always blown us off-centre, into places we didn’t think to go, conversations we didn’t plan to have, encounters we didn’t schedule. Not to confuse us – but to call us.
To remind us that the Kingdom doesn’t always appear where we planted it. Sometimes it grows in the spaces we never meant to occupy.
Lately, I’ve found myself there. In places that feel off-position. A little further from the playbook. Not rebellious. Just...led. Into moments that don’t quite fit the formation, but feel deeply, strangely full of grace. And when I stop to pay attention – I can almost hear it.
This isn’t abandonment. It’s alignment.
Maybe that’s what Alonso’s team has learned to do. Maybe that’s what we’re invited to do too. To move not because we’re making it up as we go – but because we’re learning to recognise the shape of God’s presence as it emerges. Because the Spirit is still forming us, even when it doesn’t look like the drills we rehearsed.
So I wonder – what does it look like for you?
Maybe you’ve stepped into something that doesn’t fit the plan. Maybe you’re holding a conversation, a calling, a creative spark that doesn’t seem to line up with what you thought your ‘formation’ was.
So if you find yourself standing somewhere unexpected – off-plan, off-script, out of formation – maybe it’s not a mistake.
Maybe, just maybe, that’s the Spirit moving.
Stay curious. Keep watching the game. And trust that the Coach still speaks.
So here’s the question I’m sitting with – and maybe you are too:
Where is God leading me to read the moment, to read the signs of the times, and respond – not just follow the plan?
As you go about the rest of your day, may you have eyes to see the opening. Feet ready to move. And the faith to trust that even out of formation, you are still held. Still called. Still in the game.
Josh | A Curious Follower
Let’s continue to wonder together:
Have you ever found yourself somewhere unexpected in your faith – off the map, but somehow still held? I’d love to hear your story. Leave a comment or hit reply. I read every word.