I sat down to write about how today, this Tuesday in early September, isn’t going my way.

My brain is obsessed with situations I can’t affect, a customer is nervous about her campaign results, a friend has cancer. In truth, this is an ordinary day. I am strong, healthy, loved, appreciated, and lavished with opportunity. What possess me to look and greive today?

And people say evil doesn’t exist. But it does. It does when a man has every blessing yet can’t find peace. Yes. Evil is real. Its only goal to separate us from Him.

JESUS, thank you for my life. Thank you for loving me, even when I'm stuck being a twat. Even when I focused on me, you never fail. In fact I suppose you laugh, as I chase my tail. My troubles not trivial but momentary.

I lay down every desire and hope, every dream and fantasy, every source of security and joy. For You are all of those things, and inside my striving is nothing but more struggle and death. And I am no boy.

The title of this poem is a lie. I’m not conceding shit to my enemy. More importantly, I am choosing to allow Jesus to be the Prince of Peace, the author of my Life, and holder of my soul. I am not my own. I am His. And I am worth the victory.