It’s one of those nights, the sleepless kind. It seems that anxiety is the cruel cousin of the sand man. I find myself once again climbing over the ropes and standing inside the ring-mentally that is. Tonight when the bell goes off and signals that the fight has begun, I will face my opponent. Me. It’s me in the middle of the boxing ring; standing there going round and round with myself-there is no other challenger …I am alone. Boxing is a complex sport with a simple premise: Beat the other man up and either hit him more effectively to win on a point system, or hit him so hard or so much that he can't continue to fight. I didn't know decided what my strategy was yet.
I look around the vicinity of the ring, and around the outskirts I can make out vague faces before me-cheering me on, but oddly enough..they resemble me too-my face multiplied, staring back at me- I was staring down myself. Those void forms were crying out words repeatedly I cannot hear or chose not to. I stop to pull on my gloves and glanced at them, they are faded and worn; rightfully so as they were pretty familiar with this routine-the late night scuffles with me, myself and I. Breathe in, breathe out, shoulder’s up and focus…Ready for the first untruth? Here it comes…”Ding. Ding”
BOOMMMMMM---right in the jaw-You are not a good mother…my thought hisses at me. My natural instinct is to cower and retire to the corner of the ring, but the voices do not relent..You could be so much better of a mom…I double over and tremble. If only you had more time, if only you had different talents and attributes..if only, you just weren’t …well…you. A good mother has more patience, a good mother doesn’t fail, you will never measure up comes from one of the unknown faces in the crowd, their voice is eerily mine. At this point, it’s as if my ciphering system has holes in it and I am unable to determine what truth is and what inner fears I have allowed to surface-Round one-a total loss.
WHAMMM!! You’re not a good wife, co-worker, sister or daughter. If only they knew who you really were. Did they know that sometimes you have to muster every ounce of courage and strength to push on? Would they rally behind you if they knew about the tears that fell from inadequacies? If only they could witness this battle of the inner self they would surely stand in the opposing corner. My pulse quickens, my heart races..I look on as the hand of fear was raised victorious as the winner in rounds two, three and four. Blood trickled from my face, my nose..and unseen by any others my heart.
Right before that split moment, that defining moment when I almost decide to lay down in defeat. To be no more..to cease all, end all. My coach shows up-My trainer, my lifeline.
He leans down, his eyes filled with compassion and wipes away the blood from my face and quietly whispers (keep in mind I paraphrased):
I am your refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. (Psalms 46:1 KJV)
I will cover you with my feathers, and under my wings shalt thou trust: my truth shall be thy shield and buckler. Tracy, do not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday. (Psalms 91:4-6 KJV)
When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee. (Isaiah 43:2 KJV)
Are you battling yourself? Do you find yourself in the arena..staring back at yourself? Are you afraid, of life, of hurt, of choices and consequences and things that are so far out of your reach to change, that it’s a mental tailspin of no return for you? Find comfort. Find hope-find Jesus. He promised to be our refuge and strength. I love this part, He said that He will cover us with HIS feathers-find comfort in that, my friend. Comfort in that fact that we have a father who said, “You, yes you down there..I’m Here. It’s enough and it’s all you need.
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