Rule No. 13: THE UNDERDOG ATTACK

Even when I can’t see past the bridge, I trust where He’s taking me.

Face Your Fear. Strike With Courage.
Believe You Can Beat the Best.

The last time we met, I wrote about Rule No. 12: IF YOU ARE PREPARED FOR THE WORST, YOU ARE PREPARED. That post was about building in the quiet—anchoring yourself and crafting strategy before any dark cloud even forms on the horizon. It was about preparation. This rule is different. This one is about what happens when the clouds break open and the waves rise high. It’s about what you do when the storm actually hits—and no amount of preparation feels like enough.

As I close out June—and with it, the second quarter of 2025—I’ll be honest: I’m in the middle of a storm. Multiple, actually. Rain’s hitting the windows of my captain’s cabin, winds are howling, and visibility is low. Still, I sit here with gratitude in my heart, thanking God for where He’s taking me, even when I can’t see past the bridge. The waters are rough, and the only way out is through. These rules I’ve been writing over the past six and a half months are not just blog posts; they’re personal reminders, anchors, and pieces of encouragement I return to while I keep trusting God.

This year has stretched me in every direction. It’s been a year of wild growth despite moments of doubt, of potential translating into purpose, and a pivotal year as I prepare for 30. And as I move forward with God still leading, I can feel the waves getting higher and the wind more fierce. But here’s what I know: to the victor go the spoils—and overcomers are measured by the size of what they overcome.

And who doesn’t love a good underdog story?

Attack Mode Isn’t Always Loud

You don’t wait for permission to fight for what’s inside of you.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on what it really means to fight the good fight of faith. That phrase is something we Caribbean people say often when asked how we’re doing: “Ah boy… you know I just pushing. Fighting the good fight of faith.”

But what do we actually mean? Does it mean I’m doing okay despite the chaos? That I’m trusting God’s direction, putting one foot in front of the other even when I’m tired, and doing what I can until I can do what I want?

Yes and no. Faith is a long journey, marked by hills and valleys, where consistency—not intensity—is often what’s rewarded. And there comes a point, whether in work, calling, or spiritual battle, where you realize you’re the underdog. The odds are not in your favor. The room is stacked against you, the numbers don’t make sense, everyone’s betting against you, and the giants are laughing. But something in you knows the mountain won’t move just because you watch it. You’re going to have to take your pickaxe to it, strike by strike, in faith, even when no one’s watching.

The Underdog Doesn’t Wait for an Invitation

In every level of organized sport I’ve played or coached, I’ve found myself on an underdog team at some point, and the pep talk is always the same:

“Hit ‘em hard. Hit ‘em fast. Don’t give anything. Take everything.”

That’s always stuck with me, because in life—off the field, off the court—the principle still holds. The underdog must strike first. You don’t wait for permission to belong. You don’t wait for an invitation to the table; you flip theirs or build your own. You don’t wait for permission to fight for what’s inside of you. You fight because you believe what’s in you can defeat what’s in front of you, even when no one else does.

Faith is only part of the strategy. The rest is study, discernment, and action. You move when the Spirit says move, and when it’s time, you attack.

Courage Isn’t Always Confident

We live in a culture that romanticizes courage. We think it’s the swelling of the chest, a Hans Zimmer score playing in the background, a viral moment, a protest sign, a headline, or a clapback. But real courage isn’t the absence of fear; it’s simply the decision to keep going despite it. Sometimes courage is just clarity on the other side of resistance, even when that resistance comes from within.

Real courage looks more like this:

• A trembling voice that keeps speaking anyway

• Clicking “post” when you know your circle might shun you

• Showing up for the job you feel unqualified for

• Paying the electric bill when it’s the only thing left in your bank account

• Cleaning your room even as a depressive episode looms

When you combine clarity with action, and undergird it with prayer, you become something the enemy can’t handle. You become dangerous.

I’m Still an Underdog

Queens, 2018.

No platform, blueprint, or even a full plan—just a quiet conviction and a reason not to back down.

Right now, as I write this, I’m facing the biggest battle of my life, and I don’t say that lightly. New enemies keep appearing. The pressure is real—spiritually, emotionally, professionally. And I’ll admit it: I’m feeling the overwhelm. But I haven’t stopped swinging. I still believe greater is He that is in me than he that is in the world. So even as everything around me screams retreat, and even as my instincts say to pull the nets in and go home, like Peter, I’ll cast my net on the other side, trusting that the catch will be so great it’ll break the net.

I’ve lived through enough silence to know the rhythm of divine timing, and I’ve seen enough victories to know this: the battle was never mine. It’s always been God’s. So I keep moving. I submit the project. I make the call. I show up—imperfect, unsure, but unshaken. And even that is victory, not because it’s easy, but because it’s built on trust.

You Can’t Win If You Don’t Swing

I’m not interested in counting earthly wins that don’t store up treasure in heaven. What I am interested in is living a spiritually empowered life—even when the cost feels steep. And sometimes, that means attacking.

Because:
Some fears won’t leave until you face them.
Some giants won’t move until you throw the stone.
Some walls won’t fall until you open your mouth.
Some blessings won’t come without a fight.

Victory doesn’t always look like dominance. Sometimes it just looks like not backing down.

Scriptures That Keep Me Swinging

These are the verses I return to when fear creeps in—when I doubt, when I falter, when I forget that I’ve already been promised the win:

• Deuteronomy 3:22: “Do not be afraid of them; the Lord your God Himself will fight for you.”

• 1 Samuel 17:45: “You come against me with sword, spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty.”

• 2 Timothy 1:7: “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind.”

• Joshua 1:9: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid… for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”

• Isaiah 43:2: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you… the rivers shall not overwhelm you… the fire shall not consume you.”

The last verse is tattooed on my chest. Sometimes I forget it’s there, but when I remember, I remember this too: It’s not decoration. It’s a promise.

Final Word: Faith Moves Forward

As I close Rule No. 13 and prepare for the second half of 2025, I want you to know this isn’t a call to reckless aggression or about ego or effort without wisdom.

This is about holy confidence. It’s about trusting the One who sent you, even if the fight looks unfair. It’s about facing what you’ve been running from.

It’s about remembering God doesn’t call the equipped; He equips the called. So even if you’ve never been favored, know this: you are still chosen. It’s about attacking not because you’re fearless, but because you’re finally done living in fear.

It’s about fighting the good fight of faith, even when that faith is the size of a mustard seed.