Who's your cut man?

Who's your cut man?

photo by hkfuey97

You know, in boxing, the guy who puts the stool down, takes the boxer's mouthpiece out, puts the spit bucket in front of him, fixes his cuts so he can go out and fight another round? Usually there are two or three guys in the boxer's corner, each with a specific task. Not only do they give rest and comfort for his bruised and bleeding body, they give encouragement to keep fighting when he doesn’t feel like it, to push through the pain, to go one more round. They also warn of blind spots, like, “you are dropping your hands and he’s tattooing you with that left jab.”

Wh0 are my cut men? (in life, not boxing!) I’m not naming names here, but I have them. And I have strict requirements. They must be honest. I must trust them. They need to pursue integrity—which means admitting when they make a mistake. Yes, they are allowed to make mistakes. They are even allowed to aggravate or upset me at times—after all, we are all human. But they have proven themselves by providing me support in the past—even when I didn’t ask. They also meet a need or have a skill or have something about them that uplifts me in some way. All of them profess Jesus as their Savior.

Some of my cut men come from my men’s group—but not all the men in my group are my cut men. Some are in my small group at church—but not all the men in my small group are included. Some don’t even go to church—but they speak to my soul in an uplifting way. They are the chosen few, who for whatever reason connect with me and I with them on a level beyond the immediate.

You can’t win the battle alone. You are only fooling yourself. When the round is over, the corner is a lonely place to stand. Find your cut men!