The Fight of Life
There are those times in life when it doesn’t matter how hard you try, the hits just keep on coming. One thing after another. You are barely standing upright from one punch and another strikes. Sometimes you even reach that point when you say to yourself, “I’m just going to lie here.”
It’s that point when you don’t really want to stand back up and take one more thing. The fight of life seems too cruel. You feel like just an underdog—outweighed and out-matched. So, you’d rather just lie there, give up, let the clock tick, and the world win. What does a win really matter anyway, right?
This is kind of how I felt this morning in prayer. I could almost see myself lying there in the ring, the referee counting away. My heart could only muster a faint, “whatever.” And I just sat there. Motionless. Then, as quick as lightening and as clear as day, I saw my coach in the corner of the ring. It was Jesus.
He smiled, nodded, as if to say, “Get up. You got this.” And I realized, He gets it. He’s been there. He fought the fight of all fights—the scourging, the crucifixion, the heartache, abandonment, temptation, weariness. He took more “hits” than anyone in the history of the world… and when He laid there, motionless—when all seemed hopeless, when it seemed He’d actually lost the fight—He rose up. With power from on high, He claimed the single greatest victory of all time.
After realizing this, I felt kind of silly complaining about my own fight. But I guess it happens sometimes. We get discouraged because we forget who we are. Boxers. Fighters. We didn’t join a no-contact sport. No, we went hard core. We became Christians. We became students of the greatest trainer that ever lived. We signed up to get in the ring with darkness, to go head-to-head with giants and demons.
This is our game. This is our gig. We’ve got loved ones in the stands cheering for us… loved ones in the upper deck, in the box seats of Heaven, cheering for us. They’ve invested in us, in this fight, with their love and their prayers. Our trainer Himself, Jesus, has invested in us with His blood, sweat, tears—His grace, His Spirit, His light. Lying there isn’t an option.
So, this morning, I took a deep breath. I nodded back at Jesus. I stood up, in the full armor of God. I grabbed my rosary and began to swing back in prayer, with the touch of every bead. I’m not going down today, world. No. Not today. There’s a title to claim… and it’s got my name on it. I’m praying for all you other weary boxers out there… you can do this. “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)