Total Knock Out

Normally, I am a spectator. I sit along ringside mimicking the punches of the contestants on display. You know the sequence - bob. jab. weave. Martin Lawrence taught us all these moves on his highly-successful television show. It's a shame I had to learn from him. Oh well!

With each punch, I can feel the pain. It's almost as if I am the one on the receiving end of each hit. One to the face, another to the side, and a lethal blow to the ego. Blood, sweat, but no tears are quickly thrown into the mix like a missing ingredient for the perfect recipe. Without them, the taste would not be the same. In this case, the recipe calls for action.

The crowd roars out of control. Shouts of anger, frustration, and demand are tossed into the ring, but land on deaf ears. The stakes are obviously high for some, who most likely bet more than money on the fight. I'm almost certain people sell their soul for these events. It's amazing what we'll do at the expense of others.

Loved ones can barely watch as a face they so dearly adore is now unrecognizable. Who is this person in the ring and why am I letting this happen? I'm hoping to find the answer to this question myself.

On the other side of the ring, known as inside the box, the world looks completely different. It's just you against what seems like the world. If you look closely, you'll notice that your opponent is a splitting image of someone you know very well - YOU.

As you bounce inside the ring trying to find balance, you notice how easily it is to get backed into a corner. And once you get in that corner, there is not much good that comes from it.

For me, these last few months have been an never-ending boxing match. Some days I feel like I am in a ring of despair. Still, I fight each round (day) with purpose, hope, and determination. I am often knocked down and easily bruised by the force of repeated hits to my spirit. But, through the pain I smile inside because I see the bigger picture. God has a plan that even I am not in on.

As I look out of my eyes, which at times offer me the blurriest of vision, I see me team standing in the corner. My team (parents, friends, family, loved ones, sometimes strangers), waiting to heal me, pick me up, and push me back out into the ring so that I can win the fight. They can't do it for me, so they encourage me along the way.

The only way I'm ever going to claim a title or become a champion is to take down my competition. No more temporary fixes. No more throwing in the towel. No more listening to spectators who are only there to witness my pain. Even with the odds stacked against me and bets being places on the outcome of my future, I've will use what I have been taught over the years.

Stay in the game. Put up your gloves. Go for the T.K.O - Total Knock Out.