On Saturday, we assembled as a group of guys, just men. There are three times more ladies than men on our squad. Sealing a solid bond with these nine guys is important to me. I want to me there for these guys, but on Saturday I wasn’t and it demolished me. It’s been something I’ve been thinking about for days. And days. It replays again and again in my head. Oh, I wish I could go back. As we sat around a campfire, the words of my squadmates cut deep. Those words weren’t mean to hurt. They shouldn’t have hurt. But, I’m still bleeding. Get a medic. I need one.
I’m so afraid of failing. It completely cripples me. I’m afraid of not being good enough to rise to the occasion. What if I’m not strong enough to protect my team? I’m terrified of being weak. Men are supposed to be strong. It’s such a burden. I’m supposed to man up and tough it out, right? I’m so fiercely competitive. When push comes to shove, my needs take priority. I’m so cutthroat. Nothing will stop me from achieving the goal. I’m ruthlessly relentless.
I want to apologize to my brothers on E-Squad. I should have stuck by your side. I should have been there to encourage you. I shouldn’t have left anyone behind. I would love to promise you perfection, but I know I’ll fail you again. I don’t want to. I hope you will understand. I promise to do my best. I will strive for excellence.
I’ve tolerated the fear of failure for too long. I will fail. Fact. I confess this is crippling. Lord, help me overcome. I have a lot of baggage, but I’m grateful God is revealing my shortcomings. It’s ugly and painful, but all the most wonderful parts of life are a bit sloppy. Maturity isn’t without pain and pain isn’t without hope.
I hope God can use all this baggage I’m bringing along. It’s too much baggage for me to carry. God, you have to help me. I need your help.
