I'm in the boxing ring of life,
There are no rules here,
I block each punch with all I have,
I must not show my fear.
But soon the punches come too fast,
My vision is impaired,
The fight goes on...as I grow tired,
(And just a little scared)
Surely, I can take no more,
I'm bruised,beaten and worn,
I must not give up on this fight,
Although my faith's been torn.
I raise my fist in victory,
This fight ain't over yet,
I have some strength left in reserve,
From people I have met.
If they can stand in courage,
Then maybe...I can too,
I find a dose of bravery,
From all they have been through.
My opponent's blows intensify,
His need to win seems stronger,
And I'm not sure that I can stand,
On these feet too much longer.
He throws a punch of doubt my way,
Then follows it with spite,
Even with my best defense,
I cannot win this fight.
My hands fall down...my gloves come off,
I'm not sure what to do,
I hear a voice behind me say,
"Let me take those for you".
Why would someone want my gloves?
I'm startled and undone,
The man throws down my soiled gloves,
And says..."This fight's been won.
"Each blow meant to destroy you,
Each careless word once said,
I walked into that ring myself,
And took them in your stead.
Oh Lord I"ve grown accustomed,
To fighting everyday,
Sometimes I truly wonder if,
I know another way.
This is a challenge for me,
To lay aside my hands,
And place my trust in someone else,
Who knows and understands.