Put Me In

I’m not good at this game called Love.

Someone once told me I’m not supposed to be good at it—
I’m just supposed to take care of it when I find it or if it finds me.

But every time I tried to take care of it,
It didn’t take care of me.

I’m not good at this game called Love.

I’ve trained for years.
Had a few different teammates.
Revised my playbook.
Yet, somehow, I’m still no good at this game.

And the closest I came to winning,
I realized I was running plays with a teammate
Who was passing the ball to every other team in the league. 😉

I left my last team.
I walked away, filed the paperwork,
Hung up my old jersey for good.
Sometimes leaving is the hardest move you’ll ever make.
And even though my heart is healing,
It still feels like I’m stuck on the sideline.

But the game goes on.

I built this wall around me,
Told myself it was for protection,
But after my divorce, I was always looking for the quickest exit—
Just waiting for the moment to leave.

My therapist recently chuckled and said,

“You always look for the 'see, he ain’t it,' but let’s look at what’s really happening.
Not just your emotions, which are valid, but let’s see the reality of it.”

(She really be gathering me all the way up.)

And she’s right.

I’ve spent so much time looking for ways out,
But maybe I’ve been running from what I need to face.

Maybe love isn’t a game you master.
Maybe it’s a game of full-court press we’re called to play—
Not about who scores the most points,
But about who keeps dribbling, even when the buzzer goes off.

Paul said in 2 Timothy 4:7,
“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”
Maybe that’s the goal—just to keep showing up.

As Seinfeld would put it, maybe love is like a reservation—
Anyone can make one, but the real challenge is holding onto it.

So here I am, lacing up my sneakers,
Bandaging my wounds,
And lifting my eyes to heaven.

Put me in !!!!