He sat in the corner, bleeding profusely from his nose. An expression of hurt and hopelessness consumed his eyes; an eye void of the tiger. His dreams, drained by the cruelty of life and failure, could no longer be perceived. The bell rang of a new day once again; more blows…jab, cross, jab, uppercut; with an absence of mercy. He was great, fast and dangerous. Yet, now he seems slow and unable to escape the speed of bad reputation and shame. Is it over? Are they going to stop this fight? His mind wanders to unfathomable ends, each thought filled with depression. Working on his cuts, the corner discusses the fighter. They see the swollen eyes and bruised ribs. The fighter stares at nothing, inhaling and exhaling pain. The corner yells with voices of encouragement, but with no noticeable effect.
“Don’t stop the fight,” the fighter said: not because he wanted to win, but because he wanted to die. The corner sat back and watched…jab, hook, cross, cross; the assault continues! “He is not even trying; he is not even keeping his hands up.” Jab to the face, cross to the face, devastating left hook to the body and hook to the face and the fighter is down. The blows of tragedy, the combinations of failure and the humiliation of personal sin are just too much for this fighter… the fighter is down. 1, 2, 3… he is seriously hurt! The fighter thought about his lost country and the great battles of the past, but that did not bring him back. He thought about his accomplishments, his calling, but his legs would not respond. By instinct he tries to get up with desperation! By the thought of his children the fighter increased his affords to get up, but his legs were too weak; his vision was affected by the dizziness of a life without purpose. 4, 5, 6… everybody stood, some are rejoiced, some were surprised, others were cheerless and for some, it was just another knockout; nothing personal, no emotional connection.
But out of the ashes of glory days that are now gone, in the center of a life filled with misery, a voice declared in heaven, a voice that rumbled the earth with thunderous strength and fearful imagination with the sound that resonated within every muscle and bone: “I am not done with you…look at the cross and rejoice, for the joy of the Lord is the strength that is needed to rise up.” The fighter placed his eyes on the mountains that surrounded the stadium of life’s battles. Salvation is coming…salvation is coming…my salvation is coming; it is coming from the mountains!!!!! The Lord of lords, the Warrior of all warriors is coming!!!!!
The fighter now stands; only scars remaining…the bell of hope rings with the sound of many waters. Hold that white towel, you who mocked me with the cruelty of your arrogant tongue. You came upon my corner as my counsel, yet time proved your deceit! Yes, I step into my future knowing Who fights my battles. With the power for the overcoming, I step into tomorrow joyful for what I have today!