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No Throwing the Towel

That dreaded towel.

Drenched with blood, sweat, and tears. 

Long ago it was thrown in the boxing ring after a fighter was badly beaten and felt he couldn't go on any longer. To him there was just no way he could win, so he threw that dirty symbol of defeat in.

He was done. 

At least that's what he convinced himself.

I think many of us know what it's like to feel the way a boxer does after he or she has been pummeled, punched, and in some cases, kicked every which a way. It's hard to weather all of that pain. Yet the real fighters do and I'm not even sure giving up ever comes in the neighborhood of their vocabulary. That's why they're the champs. The ones who push through and fight throughout that long bloody war.

People with such will power really do exist. 

Their the ones who end up standing. They may have the torn, ripped, cut, stinking, bloody, sweaty arms raised in the air, but they're standing as the winners. They may look a mess, but they know it's temporary. And when we see them a few days later, they're all cleaned up. We may see some of the scars left over, but nothing like they looked right after the fight. Those scars are necessary because they help them (and us) realize the fight was fought. A struggle was overcome. A mountain was defeated. A storm was weathered.

And they won.

Champions pull from an inner strength through tough times. I must continue to model my thinking from that. Thus, the only place I'm throwing that filthy towel is in the trash can. Why? Because I can do all things through Christ who gives me the strength to fight (Phillipians 4:13). 


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