Encouragement

You wish that this fight could just end in a knockout: you being the boxer losing consciousness. You would still get paid
and this one-sided bout would be over. Your opponent came at you with furious left jabs that softened up your stance,
weakened your knees and made you vulnerable. You tried to land a few blows -- and you did -- but those hits seemed to merely
infuriate your opponent and give him more vitality. He is much stronger and far more skilled than you gave him credit for. For every move you make, he's got two counter-moves.

It's only the third round and your opponent is merely toying with you. Yes, he is beating you badly, but it could be worse,
and you wish it was, so this ill-advised match would be over. The third round won't end. Where is the bell? You need that
cut above your eye to be sutured. There is blood running into your mouth from a nose that may be broken. You are so thirsty.
Your vision is blurry from the swelling on your eyes and also because you are teetering on unconsciousness, but you have to
keep fighting. No, you can't quit. You can't take a fall as much as you want to. Yes, the boxer you are faced with could
finish you off with one punch -- but there is some force that seems to be preventing his victory.

The bell finally rings, signaling the end of round three, and what a relief it is. You stagger back to your corner: the
sound of the crowd who is clearly in favor of your opponent sounds hollow and wooshy in your injured, semi-conscious state.
The referee looks at you as you stumble past, and his countenance seems to say "this fool is in over his head. I should
just call this fight now, but there is too much on the line."

Your Trainer waits in your corner and gently helps you onto your stool. He is smiling as He says "I will never leave you
or forsake you. You have hoped in me and will raise you up on wings like eagles. You, my beloved, will run and not grow
weary. You will walk and not grow faint."

The Trainer touches the cut above your right eye and the bleeding stops as quickly as it started. Your vision begins to
clear and the pain ever so slowly subsides. You are now able to lick your parched lips without pain, as the swelling in
both your tongue and your lips is receding. The Trainer squirts water into your open mouth as your breathing is still
labored; however you can taste this cool water and it is the most refreshing drink you have ever partaken of. The Trainer
is still smiling and assuredly so; and you begin to feel your strength return. He's looking right at you with immeasurable
compassion and right through you with divine knowledge. You feel reassured as you speak in a croaky voice "I'm glad that
you're in my corner."

The bell rings to start round 4. The Trainer speaks and what He says shocks you in a way and yet speaks nothing but
truth -- the truth that you have long held fast to. "You stay here in the corner. Thank you for fighting the good fight
of faith, but this is a battle that you could never win, as he would devour you. I will finish the fight for you."

The referee falls to his knees as the Trainer enters the center of the ring. The cheering of the crowd reaches a frenzied
level -- many of those in the stands are booing and some are laughing and jeering. "He thinks HE can beat the World Champion?"
many of them scoff with glee.

The World Champion throws down his gloves and snickers as he approaches the Trainer. "You think you can beat me old man,
or should I say old Lamb? This world is mine and so will you be!" After the World Champion spoke, he launched his best
right-handed sucker punch, only to have his fist grabbed by the Trainer before it could make contact.

The once cheering crowd let out a terrified gasp. "Hallelujah" the referee cries out! The arrogant, over-confidant smirk
on the Champ's face gives way to an agonized, wide-eyed stare. It is now quiet enough in the auditorium to hear the bones
cracking in the Champ's powerful right hand "Jesus is Lord" the Champ now confesses and cries pitifully in pain and fear,
but it is too late for him. A large crevice opens, splitting the boxing ring and the entirety of the auditorium in half.
The Champ is thrown in like a child would toss a rag doll that is no longer a cherished toy. The crowd, who paid the price
of admission through a mark on their wrists and foreheads, is subsequently tossed into the pit by the Trainer. The auditorium
likewise vanishes into the gaping crevice...

Friends, so many of us are facing daily attacks from the "world champion" who is the Prince of Darkness. So many of us are
bruised, broken, and bleeding spiritually, emotionally and financially. Not for much longer, my brethren. We must always
remember that we have the Trainer in our corner. Hallelujah!