I just had a dream where I was up to my old tricks, fighting again. My opponents: two brothers, friends of mine, a wager to be decided with boxing gloves. My mother was holding the key to the lockbox with the bets-I recall that I had $170.00 bet that I would win, some higher amount against.
Of the two brothers, one was roughly my size, the other a little lighter.
Knowing that the lighter one was easier to beat, I pinned him against a desk (no ring-this was in an office) so that he couldn't dance away and I just kept punching him in the face. Then I woke up.
Confession time: I'm not a nice person.
I used to box with words instead of gloves. My nature pushed me to win, to be relentless, to never give an inch.
Thank God for age!
A few weeks ago in church I mentioned a well known Christian minister who I believe is teaching error.
This last Sunday, one of my brothers in Christ called me on it, told me I was wrong.
Here's what's on my heart. I don't want there to be even a sliver of a tiny wedge between me and my brother over this. Our friendship is more important to me than who is right about anything. I relent.