My Boxing Gloves and My New Fight…

I decided it was high time to clean out my closet.  Imagine: shoes everywhere, hats, purses, and clothes that I haven’t worn in 12 years—count them,12. Some things I choose to hang on to for sentimental reasons. I get that from my dad, Rick (who even cried when it was time to sell and buy a new mattress).  As I was going through the many layers of things and deciphering what needs to stay, what needs to go, what can be sold and what should be given away, I came across my boxing gloves.

A little over 8 years ago, before I had my son Hutch, I was in the best shape of my life. I took boxing and I loved it. I loved the excitement in the ring. I loved hitting the pads. I loved learning how to react quickly and effectively to take someone out.  I loved the fight.  As I stared at these gloves that I’ve only used a few times since then (I can no longer do any high impact exercise because of a back injury), I realized I still have all too much been drawn to the fight in my life.

Only now I have loved the fight in the arena of the everyday, in-person, or online. Social media has been a training ground and ring for quick, reactive come backs to get the most bang for my 140 characters. I see it happen every day and I am just as guilty as the next friend. As I stared at the boxing gloves and knew it was time to let them go, I knew fighting was something I need to outgrow as well.

I don’t want to fight anymore. It’s not accomplishing anything. Sure it feels good in the moment to fight back, to react, to one up each other with a scripture or doctrine here and throw a critique there. But this isn’t who I am or what I am called to be.  This hopeful, peacemaking nature that I am created in is beginning to finally mature and bring itself out.  My life can be a better defense than my words.


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