Winning

The destiny of mankind is not decided by material computation. When great causes are on the move, we learn that we are spirits, not animals, and that something is going on in space and time, and beyond space and time, which, whether we like it or not, spells duty.
--Winston Churchill, Rochester, New York, 1941


It is late and I’m cross legged on an upper bunk. Sting is crooning a mournful song in one ear (iPod) as my other ear listens to the Molalla River whisper. It is saying something about melting snow and the patience it needs to obey the laws of nature... chewing through soil and rock as it seeks the level of the sea.

There was a speaker tonight. A wrestling coach or something. A score or so of men from my church sat in folding chairs and listened. I was perhaps the most reluctant listener.

First, I’m not into sports, and as he launched into his homily I heard the practiced voice of a coach, a seasoned pattern of earnestness, ardent tones that makes young athletes do their best to win.

And that was the second reason I was a reluctant listener... his topic was “winning.”

He began by telling us that winning is everything. He spoke of how men find their worth in how well they succeed at what they do.

I didn’t want to hear about winning. I don’t feel like a winner.

When I decided to go on this retreat my wife was living with another man. We were being kind to each other and she told me to go. She said she would watch the boys while I was gone. I told her I would go, and she could watch them, as long as she did not introduce her boyfriend to them.

Now she is in my home again. At this moment she is asleep in my bed (it is late).

I do not feel like a winner.

Perhaps I have saved my marriage. When I decided to come here I was certain we were divorcing.

Perhaps I haven’t saved it.

I don’t feel like a winner.

I feel like a man doing his duty.

There is a sadness about her. I don’t believe she wants to be there.

I am working on our marriage because I feel it is what my Lord wants of me. I believe it is what I am supposed to do, even if it doesn’t work out.

I feel I am working... working and working and working... I am being the father, being the husband, being the employee, being the Christ Follower... and I am tired.

She showed me more affection when she was pretending to be my wife. I received more hugs, more kisses, when she was trying to keep me from realizing how far apart we had become.

So I wasn’t particularly interested in hearing about how much we should be winners.

I don’t feel like a winner.

I do feel I am being obedient.

I feel I am carrying a load that is almost too heavy, and that I want to put it down.

I think about divorce.

I think about giving up.

I looked around the room and I saw men smiling and nodding, basking in the the cadence of a coach’s rousing words.

I suspect most men revel in the enthusiasm, the shared joy, of sports. But I haven’t any interest in it.

So, his words about winning only echoed in the empty place I feel over having an empty marriage. I don’t feel like a winner.

I knew he would turn his topic around because, deep down, I don’t think winning is everything.

I don’t feel like I am winning anything. I’m just slugging through my days, trying to encourage my wife to heal her heart, and heel her heart. I’m just doing the best I can in teaching my students, though the joy of being an educator is tainted by sorrow.

And he did turn the topic.

He had to.

Winning isn’t everything.

Sometimes people do their best, their very best, and they do not win. That doesn’t mean they have truly failed. They did their duty. They were obedient and steadfast and they failed.

He spoke about losing a wrestling match in college. Outmatched, he did his very best, and in the final seconds of the contest, lost.

Now he was holding my attention a little better.

He spoke about another failure. Of my Lord losing his trials before Pilate and Herod. He spoke about the beating and the whipping and the torturous climb up Calvary and the nails, and the blood and the death.

And he spoke of how what seemed to those who sent Him to Herod, how He failed to save Himself, found success, salvation for all.

OK.

That wasn’t so bad.

This guy isn’t telling me that winning in the eyes of the world is everything. He recognizes that sometimes it is being obedient that counts.

I’m growing tired. It is nearing midnight. I wonder if my wife is thinking about me, if she cares to heal my hurts as much as I want to heal hers. I wonder if she is willing to try and love me again.

I don’t feel like a winner.

I’m tired, and discouraged, and I’ve been writing in this blog lately about things that make me look like I am coping well in this mess I am in, and I am not nearly as strong or as good or as selfless as I would like folks to believe.

But I believe I am being obedient, being faithful.

There is more to life than the experiences of flesh, things beyond space and time.

I believe I am doing what He wants me to do.

Perhaps that is all the winning I need.