Winning

You don't need to win.

I tell myself that every day. As I battle many different things at different times, I do not have to win all the time. I am too competitive. I have needed to be throughout my life. I have needed to be a fighter. I have needed that little voice inside that tells you to get back up and fight. I tell myself I am better than this. I have more heart. I have been through more, and it has helped me to survive. But now, it has become a way of life; to compete against the world. Me against you and I am taking me.

This causes problems. Why? Because we can't always win. We lose sometimes, everyone does. We need the fight when we are crippled and down and are barely breathing, such as right now for me. We need it to subside when we take too much pride in the fight. We were meant to lose some. Without lose, victory isn't sweet at all.

Yet, I don't shave much anymore. I trick my body to get out of bed. I pretend to still love the hobbies I have always loved. I am here on autopilot and my mind is somewhere in space, floating around, bouncing between pain and regret. I need the fight right now, but have given up most of it. I am down and continue to lay there barren. My God lifts me up and I fall back down again. It is my fault I cannot keep my legs straight. I am too weak.

I miss the time I would light up at the chance to compete. I was always the underdog in my mind, I made it that way because I was better coming from behind, when no one expected much from me. I remember in basketball, I would size up the other team, find their best player and go for him. I would beat him up physically and mentally until he broke. I won. I had heart. I miss that fire. Something has been taken from me. Someone. It isn't coming back. But God, who is faithful and allows us pain has something better on the horizon. I can't see it now, and I can't feel it, but I know it's there. He allows this pain for a better ending.

But for now, I will sit at this computer and open all of my pictures of him and weep. Because it is all I can do. And crumble into the arms of Christ, who is the only source of strength.














Sing.
Migrate.


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