The Crown is Yours: How to Win with God on Your Side
“The heavier the crown, the greater the weight of the crucifixion.”
Imagine two teams on the field: Team Jesus and Team Enemy. In the stands, the crowd is divided—angels cheering for victory while the enemy's minions sneer in anticipation of failure.
Now picture God and Jesus sitting on the edge of the throne, fully invested in the game. God, the team owner, exudes confidence. Jesus, the Coach, nods with assurance, and the Holy Spirit, the trusted Quarterback, steps onto the field with divine precision.
The play begins. The angels lean forward, their excitement palpable. This isn’t just any play—it’s an explosive one. The Holy Spirit scans the field, locks eyes with me, and throws the ball with perfect aim. My heart races as I catch it and run, breaking through every obstacle the enemy tries to throw in my path.
Touchdown. Victory. The angels erupt in praise, shouting with joy, hugging each other, and celebrating the moment. The enemy minions shrink back in defeat, powerless against the winning play. On the throne, God and Jesus smile with pride, their confidence in the team affirmed. The field may be tough, but with this lineup, victory is always assured.
That’s how the moments at the crossroads of crucifixion unfold in my mind. The touchdown is my willingness to die—to pride, to ego, to the urge to call people out when they play the victim in situations they created. For me, a big part of this dying is choosing silence, and it is so hard. I have also realized that these moments have also allowed the CROWNED life to go forward, it's bigger than me, it's about the calling of the CROWNED Life not me.
November has been a month filled with both gratitude and grief. Grief for the pride and ego that weighs heavy on our nation, and deep grief for the transition of our aunt. Her passing hit hard—she wasn’t just family; she was a pillar in our marriage, my confidante, and an incredible source of strength. I learned so much from her. I wrestled with wanting her to stay because when you find pillars in life and marriage, you imagine they’ll always be there. But coming to terms with her transition and seeing how trusting everything God poured into her, she had poured into me. Now, it’s my time to rise and become a pillar.
As a coworker wisely reminded me, “You’re not losing a pillar; you’re becoming one.”
Amidst the grief, I’m also so very grateful. God allowed me to experience healing a reconciliation as she transitioned. God also allowed me to be present for a friend who is expecting a baby girl and I was honored during Homecoming as one of the 2024 Hall of Famers for the Paul Quinn College National Alumni Association—a humbling recognition. The crown has been heavy, and so is the weight of the crucifixion of surrendering to God’s will, both for my family and for our nation.
As we go into the holidays, some of us may be experiencing both gratitude and grief for various reasons—the weight of the crown and crucifixion. I want to encourage you to A.C.T:
Acknowledge what you feel. Give yourself permission to name your emotions, whether joy, sorrow or a mix of both.
Connect with God and trusted people who can support you through this season. You don’t have to carry the weight alone.
Take Action by doing something meaningful—pray, journal, serve others, or take a walk to reflect. Move in a way that helps you process and release what you’re carrying.
It's okay to feel the weight—it’s a sign that your heart is alive and open to what God is doing in and through you. So as you step onto the field of life, remember whose team you’re on. The Owner has already secured the victory, the Coach has equipped you with the perfect game plan, and the Quarterback is guiding every move with precision. The angels are cheering you on, and heaven celebrates every step you take in obedience and faith.
The field may be tough, and the opposition fierce, but with God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit on your side, you are unstoppable. Catch the ball, run your race, and know that every victory brings glory to the One who has already declared you more than a conqueror. The play is yours—make it count.
Top Picture: Me at Homecoming Tailgate with my plaque
Bottom Picture: Me speaking on acknowledgements and resolutions
