The Struggle

I’ve written a lot lately about the last few years, how hard I found them. There were many nights I didn’t know if I would keep my business afloat, find someone who believed in me, be able to be there for my kids.

Most of those pressures are gone now. My business is surviving, and I don’t need anyone to believe in me. I believe in myself. For the last few weeks my life has been continually getting easier. I’ve been a bit down if I’m honest. I work hard, but something is missing.

I miss the fight.

I miss the struggle. I miss finding the end of my rope and asking God to give me strength to hold on. It’s really been a revelation to me. But the more I think about it the more it makes sense to me. I think there is no greater sense of accomplishment then to get through a hard time. Alternatively, I think nothing destroys the soul as quick as complacency, ease, comfort, and no responsibility.

A Gambler loves the feeling of a loss. That’s way they keep playing after a win. A Soldier falls in love with Combat. Workaholics love the struggle of work. Men and women alike love to go to the gym and lift things that don’t need to be lifted. We want resistance. We need it. We die without it.

I wonder how different of a world we would live in if we taught ourselves and each other the good that comes with hard times. If we embraced misfortune. If we owned our struggles and admitted our faults. If we didn’t look to others to blame, and we looked at them as a chance to get stronger, kinder, humbler, and more connected to each other.

What if we all stopped being victims. What if every slight and injustice real or imagined was just another chance to get to the next level. In Hockey, as coaches, we learn more about our team and players during a loss than a win. For the players, getting beaten by someone better is just a demonstration right in front of you that you can learn from.

I remember being in an arena with my Dad watching my younger brother play hockey. It was in the first period and the other team scored a quick goal. The other parents started the usual handwringing and fault finding; This player didn’t do this, the coach didn’t do that, etc…. The other team scored another quick goal and I watched my Dad put his hands around his mouth so he could telegraph his voice. I wasn’t sure what was going to come out, but what did was completely unexpected and I’ve never forgotten it.

“NICE GOAL!” he bellowed at the other team. “BUT YOU BETTER SCORE MORE, BECAUSE WE ARE GOING TO FILL YOUR NET!”

I loved that. We are descendants of Vikings, and I can’t help but think that spirit my Dad showed came from a long line of Cottier’s that loved the fight. My Dad would’ve been a far better coach then I ever was. If I ever coach again I will be a very different coach. One of my main goals will be to teach young boys the joy of the struggle. And when we lose, to not criticize them, nor patronize them. To enjoy the struggle with them.

2 Timothy 4:7

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race. I have kept the faith.

I hate trying to interpret things from this Book. I’m not qualified, but I do think it’s significant that it doesn’t say, “I won the fight.” It also doesn’t say, “I won the race.” He fought it, he raced it. He didn’t give up. That’s it.

When you get through whatever it is you are going through, you may just find, like I did, that you miss the struggle. When trouble comes back around, I’m going to try to meet it with a grin.

On a humorous note, I just thought of something. For the last 20 years I’ve told anyone that will listen what I want on my Grave stone. It’s this,

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger……. oops.”

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

If you read this far, thank you. Tris.