Hearts Full of Hope.

Three Olympians share how their faith in God helps them deal with world-class pressures.

How many viewers mind when, every four years, television networks preempt programs from soap operas to the nightly news to report on the Olympic Games? Something about watching mostly sculpted bodies performing mostly stellar athletic feats brings all the nations to the same fresh place--a place where anything's possible regardless of reputation.

That hope, when combined with each competitor's hard work, gives rise to the dynamic sporting events scheduled this year from September 15 to October 1 in Sydney, Australia. There the games will produce gazillions of photogenic statements about athleticism and artistry.

But a camera can't easily catch the spiritual side of these high-stakes players. It can't document the ways God has mysteriously worked alongside various athletes as they've reached for their personal best in X, Y, or Z sport.

Yet a spiritual perspective exists. And the following Christian athletes embrace it as a healthy way to not only grow closer to God, but also distance themselves from that unimaginable pressure--performing at an often once-in-a-lifetime event before a watching world. That pressure, after all, can squeeze all the fun and joy out of the sport. However, dealing with life as an Olympian from a Christian perspective can give athletes a bigger heart set on a higher hope--regardless of what they take home.

Valerie Sterk: Above the Circumstances

To make the Colorado Springs-based U.S.A. volleyball team three years ago, six-foot-two-inch middle blocker Valerie Sterk must have played a mean college game. Indeed! The record credits the 1997 elementary education graduate of Michigan State University with highlights like two All-American selections and a smashing junior year when the underdog Spartans won the Big 10 and progressed to the Final Four.

But she's not exempt from bench warming--something that hit her hard when she lost her starting position on the national team in 1999. At the time, Sterk thought her coach gave her discouraging news--something that for months had heightened her frustration.

However, in November 1999 her doctor's news caused a far more serious setback. The irregular mole on her chest tested positive as malignant melanoma, a deadly cancer if not caught early and aggressively treated. Given these circumstances, the college volleyball star and would-be Olympian found herself anxiously waiting for postsurgery results in mid-December.

"When I first came out of surgery I thought, There's no way I'm going to he able to play volleyball, because I can't move my arm," explains Sterk, a volleyball devotee since age 11.

Now cancer-free, the 24-year-old gratefully shares that the 1" x 2" incision healed quickly, as did the soreness in her dominant arm where doctors removed some lymph nodes. Miraculously, she joined her team on the court the day after Christmas.

"Sometimes I think it's a little silly that I spend seven hours a day, six days a week trying to keep a little white ball off the ground," Sterk admits. "But God has given me the ability to play and put me on this team for a reason."

One reason may be to encourage fellowship at the U.S. Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, Colorado. For instance, last year Sterk and teammate Mickisha Hurley organized a small Bible study. And they continue encouraging each other with prayer.

Still, Sterk says life at this level of play reminds her of a roller coaster. To stay secure, she keeps her Bible open and sets her heart on Christ, who is always "so awesome" even when circumstances are not.

"Yeah, where do I get my strength?" she asks rhetorically. "Whom am I playing for?" With this perspective, Sterk's not living under the circumstances, but above them.

Vic Wunderle: On Target

Unlike so many Olympic events, Vic Wunderle makes sport of what was once essential to survival. Few cultures today must use the bow and arrow to hunt animals or attack enemies. Yet Wunderle remains intimately familiar with the ancient weaponry--something he first picked up as a kindergartener after his father fashioned his bow from a willow branch and wrapped his arrow tips with rags.

Today the 24-year-old sharpshooter lives at the ARCO Training Center in Chula Vista, California, to train full-time. He usually visits the range early, draws his 50-pound, Olympic-style bow and releases approximately 400 arrows.

"That's like lifting 20,000 pounds in a day," remarks Wunderle, one of only three men on the U.S. Olympic team in archery.

The sport may appear stoic compared to, say, the men's butterfly swim race. But who could underestimate archery's demands for precision? Wunderle confirms that the event involves trying to hit something the size of a grapefruit three quarters of a football field (70 meters) away.

So, to shoot with a "Midas touch" in Sydney, he made a "daylight to darkness" training commitment three years ago. That's when the Texas A&M wildlife and fishery sciences major took time off "from school and life." After all, at both the 1992 and 1996 Olympic trials he came nerve-rackingly close to qualifying.

"I didn't make those teams, but I lost to the best in the world," reflects the modest Midwesterner. "And those trials made me realize what I needed to put in for 2000."

The sweat equity paid off when he qualified earlier this year. However, Wunderle says even that couldn't top the elation of his first competitive success nearly 20 years ago. Turns out that the 5-year-old champ from Mason City, Illinois--35 miles north of Springfield--was too young to read the scoreboard when he won the "under 12" archery tournament category. Worse, Wunderle feared the officials had overlooked him as they handed participation medals to most of the other kids.

Minutes later the dramatic reversal of fortune delighted the glum little boy and made the sport seem more fun. But Wunderle says that these days it's his faith (not just fun) that gives him a brighter perspective when he's under pressure.

"Suddenly the archery competition doesn't seem as important," Wunderle reflects. As a Christian he's on target. What could better steady shaky arms in front of the bulls'-eye in Sydney?

Leah O'Brien-Amico: Inside Catch

At age 6, Leah O'Brien-Amico discovered what would become the two great loves of her life--Jesus and softball. Later, she added her husband, Tommy Amico, to the list. But as a girl she didn't care about the opposite sex. She cared about playing this game. So season after season she honed her talent and ultimately competed on the gold medal-winning Olympic team in 1996--the sport's Olympic debut year. Now age 26, the veteran's got a spot on the 2000 team as well.

But for most of her life, pursuing Jesus with the same passion fell by the wayside--even though she had invited Him into her heart as a child. However, by the time her teammate Julie Reitan died from a diabetic coma in 1997, O'Brien-Amico had renewed her faith. She says the late Reitan began encouraging her as soon as they met in 1995 playing softball for the University of Arizona at Tucson. Later, Reitan invited her to participate in the on-campus Athletes in Action fellowship--another spiritual stepping-stone for O'Brien-Amico.

"After she passed away, I stopped holding back [as a Christian]," explains the U.S.A. softball right fielder from Chino, California. "God just showed me that if I can make a difference in one person's life like she made in mine, it's worth it."

For instance, before their friendship blossomed, O'Brien-Amico says she regarded herself as a moral person. Yet she "didn't know the first thing about the Bible." And she shrank from publicly thanking God the way Reitan and other Christian teammates did after winning golds in 1996.

"I wanted to thank God, but I didn't feel confident," recalls O'Brien-Amico of the Kodak moment. "I thought, Do I really know God?" To find out, she began reading the Bible which prompted more spiritual growth spurts--some of which Reitan witnessed. For instance, just before her unexpected death, Reitan had encouraged O'Brien-Amico to try praying aloud--something she timidly attempted before the championship game of the 1997 World Series.

"But I was shut out!" O'Brien-Amico laughs as she remembers how Reitan prayed before she could speak up. After winning hours later, O'Brien-Amico shouted "Wait, guys!" and gathered some players at home plate to offer her first public prayer.

"That was my first [spoken] prayer, and the first time I've ever cried for being happy," O'Brien-Amico recalls. Since then, when the pressure's on, when dropping the ball costs more than ever, she's sure she's caught her faith and can pass it on.

Pam Mellskog will be following the Olympics from her home in St. Paul, Minnesota.