Monday, August 16, 2010

What A Day To Be Alive

"What a day to be alive. What a day to realize I'm not dead." Greg Laswell

Finally, a decent day in Michigan. I swear this summer is worse than any winter I have weathered while wearing a woolen wetsuit. Good day. A nice day. A day I needed to win one small victory. When you have something in your life where performance is paramount, you picture the scenario of both victory and defeat. There is not any other options. Victory or defeat. No middle ground most of the time. Today I won! It has really been a while since I had that thought run through my head. Although winning and losing is really all in your head isn't it? We perceive facts of life as a loss or gain whether it is or isn't. But today I felt like I won. Validated. I felt like my instincts were coming closer to where the Spirit of God is leading.

Might seem trivial to you, or to those that have made a lifestyle at winning, but my sort of winning has nothing to do with banquets or being held in another's high esteem.  My kind of winning is when I feel like my God is reaching me. Finally. I am so stubborn and try so hard to follow the way I am supposed to . I have no excuse for my folly, only regret at wasted time, effort, and heartbreak. So when days come when I have been searching my heart and bleeding blood, and making major sacrifices, and God confirms that I am finally listening, I get ecstatic.

All this coming from one of the most competitive people you will meet. I have fought for so much in my life and overcome by the grace and strength of God many obstacles that should have ended me. I have battled death the majority of my life, both in those I love and my own. I have seen the effects of the enemy and the temptations of this world. I have been brought to my lowest point and understand what the final moment of life is like. I have been kicked around, told I was nothing, and laughed at. But here I sit. A big freaking smile on my face. Alive and invigorated. My God is good. The world can be bad, but what I know is that my God is good.

He never promised us an easy road to travel, just the opposite. He told us to take up our crosses and follow him and I feel like I have plenty of miles to cross before I get there when I see Him face to face, but by the power and strength of God, here I am. Still carrying this cross as best as I can. I have dropped it so many times and sat down to rest, but God lifts me up again and reminds me that the cross is easy to bear for me, because He took it's weight. I get to feel some splintering on my neck, but the weight is gone. The destination is no longer Golgotha, it is Heaven. It doesn't matter the specific victory, it matters the source.


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