I AM a Winner!
Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering,
For He who promised is faithful.
It is a no good, very bad, horrible day.
The Titans are 13 and 0. Last night, they won the Regional Championship. Last night, the whole town—only months back torn and bleeding with racial strife—was deliriously united in the joy of victory. Last night, the eyes of all together were zeroing in on the prize: a win in the State Finals, and a walk into the history books.
But today, Gary Bertier—the all-American defensive linebacker and captain of the team—lies in a hospital, crippled for life. The automobile accident has changed everything.
Or almost everything.
Bill Yoast, coach of the defensive team, enters his office at the high school. Herman Boon, head coach of the Titans, joins him. Bertier’s presence—and his absence–fills the room.
Says Boon, “Here’s the Marshal film. We’ve got to be sharp offensively and defensively, got to stay focused, do a couple of extra practices. I’ve scheduled a press conference. . . ”
Interrupts Yoast, “Press conference! Look, what we do here, between ourselves, that’s one thing; but this is no time to be parading around . . . ”
Objects Boon, “It’s not about parading around, it’s about staying unified. Look, I’m hurting just like you. But I didn’t . . . we didn’t come this far just to break down and lose . . .”
Cries Yoast, “You know, Herman, everything’s not always about winning and losing; it’s about . . ”
Declares Boon, in no uncertain terms: “I am a winner. I am going to win.”
So what do you think? Is Boon a callous, self-absorbed egomaniac? Yoast thought so. But the end of the matter—which was indeed a state championship for the Titans—proved otherwise. Boon really was a winner—and so was the whole team and the whole town that he loved and served, including Gary Bertier.
When Boon affirmed that he was a winner, it wasn’t ego; it was simply that the Truth had spoken through him.
Saints of God, days are coming when the storms of Providence will rage against you; when gale force winds threaten to blow you all the way back to Egypt, back into the very jowls of the world, the flesh, and the devil.
Then is the time you need to hold fast the confession of your hope, without wavering, and to remember that he who promised is faithful.
Has he promised that He chose you in Christ before the foundation of the world?
Has he assured you that it is finished; that Christ has laid down his life for the sheep, so that not a single one shall ever perish, nor shall any ever snatch them out of his hand?
Has he guaranteed you that the saints are sealed with the Holy Spirit , who is the deposit and pledge of your inheritance, until the redemption of the purchased possession at the resurrection of the dead, to the praise of his glory?
Has he made you to see and believe and thrill to the thought that whom he foreknew, these he predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son; and whom he predestined, these he also called; and whom he called, these he also justified; and whom he justified, these He also glorified?
If so, when the winds begin to rage, you must confess it. Confess it all. Confess it aloud to the entire stadium, to the whole great cloud of witnesses watching you run—to God, the angels, the saints above, your friends below, and to your own wavering self.
Say, “I am a Christian.
Say, “I will enter Heaven.”
Say, I am a winner, I am going to win.
Beloveds, it will be neither ego nor presumption, but simply the Truth—the voice of the faithful One who has promised—speaking through you.
And the great cloud of witnesses will cheer you on to victory.