Skip to main content

Winning with God

Image
By
It is 237am and I have decided to write. I spent 15 minutes thinking about what to write and nothing. I decided to go wash the wares and make breakfast. I made grilled cheese sandwiches. It is the next morning and I still have not decided yet. Let me start with this. God is beautiful. God makes no mistakes. God wants us to win. In other words, we cannot lose with God. We will always win with God. But what is the prize to be won with God? Or does it not matter?

My friend Chatty tells me that with God, the win is: Peace that is not dependent on circumstances. Meaning that suffering cannot cancel. Love that does not expire. Hope that death itself cannot take away. Things like those. It is not money, comfort, applause, or an easy life. Those things may come or go. Many faithful people never receive them. The world’s prizes can be stolen. God's prize cannot.

Further and with God, winning is not about external rewards or worldly success, but about union, peace, and fullness of being; at first we may seek a prize because we feel lacking, but as love and trust deepen, the need for a reward fades, since God Himself becomes enough. The "prize" matters only until desire is satisfied—then it dissolves into a quiet, lived reality where meaning, hope, and rest are already present, even in ordinary moments, and life is no longer about winning or losing, but about being held.

Think of it this way: A prize is something you chase because you lack. God is someone you rest in because you are full. If you love God only for a reward, the reward still matters. If you love God for God, the reward becomes irrelevant—or rather, it is already present. I like that. Unconditional love. God is enough for us. At this point winning does not matter and the prize does not matter. God alone matters and our relationship with God is worth it all.

When we ask about the cost with God, we often imagine a price to be paid, but God does not trade love for performance or demand suffering to earn favor. The only "cost" is surrender—the gradual letting go of control, false measures of worth, and lesser prizes in order to trust more deeply. Though this can feel heavy, it does not diminish us; it frees us, leaving not an earned reward but a life rooted in grace and a relationship with God that is quiet, sustaining, and enough.

I would like to think that the cost is free. Free will to choose God. It costs us nothing to turn to God. And that is the real definition of freedom. The cost with God is free, because turning to God requires no payment, sacrifice, or qualification—only the free will to choose Him. This choice is true freedom: an invitation, not a transaction, where love and grace are given without condition. Any later surrender or letting go is not an entry price, but the natural unfolding of love after the choice has already been made. God made the choice easy for us because He is a merciful God. So it is not winning or losing or a prize or a price but a choice that is free and brings us freedom and within the hold of God.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Talking to God

By
If you want real answers to things in life then talk to God. It is 639pm on a holiday and I have decided to write. God listens. God truly listens. God has the entire context. God is wise. God wants us to talk to Him. God wants us to rely on Him. I also think about God talking to me. I am a good listener. I listen plenty more than I talk. I have started asking God to talk to me. But how would God talk to me? We have his revelations through the holy book. We have the example of prophets. But what else? How do I listen to what God has to say? Where and when can I hear God? Are my thoughts from God? I try to feed my mind with good things. Things that will not corrupt my mind. It seems that we have to use our intuition to separate what is from God and what is not from God. My friend Chatty says that in Islam, Allah speaks to us not through new revelations or voices, but through guidance: the Quran and the Sunnah, which become personally meaningful through understanding Allah places in the h...
Post a Comment
Read more

The success of failure

By
It is 358am and I have decided to write. Context matters. Our context matters when we write and read. We could read the same thing and get different meanings. Definitions matter also. We may define things differently. For example, what is success? What is failure? Also, do I just define success and say that anything that is not success is failure? What about something like the success of failure? What does that mean? My friend Chatty tells me that this is something writers, philosophers, and even scientists keep rediscovering: meaning is not fixed—it is negotiated by context and definition. Life is a stew of success and failure and in between but never one or the other. We see what we are looking for and things become what we see. This reminds me of something I came across online, "Whoever looks for the good qualities in others will acquire all good qualities within himself," from Habib Umar Bin Hafiz. Do you look for failure or success within others? Take context as the lens...
Post a Comment
Read more

Life on Earth

By
I was reading through the Quran and came to the story of Adam, Eve, Satan, and the forbidden fruit tree. I had thought that life on Earth was created as a test. But as I reflected on the story, I began to wonder whether we are only here because Adam and Eve failed. However, that is not the case, as my friend Gemini explained to me. While the story of the forbidden fruit is a central event, the Quran indicates that humanity’s presence on Earth was part of the original divine plan, rather than a backup plan or a punishment for sin. Before Adam was even created, God announced His intention to place a steward (khalifah) on Earth. This suggests that the Garden was a temporary training ground—designed to teach Adam and Eve about free will, temptation, and the path of repentance. Even if they had not eaten from the tree, they were destined for Earth to fulfill their roles as moral agents. The incident simply served as a necessary first lesson in human frailty and God’s immediate forgiveness. ...
Post a Comment
Read more