For the Underdogs: Reflections, Regrets, and Redeeming the Time

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a heart for the underdogs.

Long before I understood theology, leadership, or calling, I instinctively gravitated toward those on the margins. I think back to my childhood in National City, California. There was a boy in our neighborhood who would run from the school bus and crouch behind parked cars. The other kids mocked him. I didn’t fully understand why he did what he did, but something in me knew there was a story beneath his behavior. Rodney and I became friends until he and his family moved away.

Years later, looking back with greater compassion and awareness, I realized he likely had a colostomy bag or some physical condition he was trying to hide. What looked strange to others was probably his attempt to survive embarrassment, shame, or fear. That memory has stayed with me—not because of what we knew then, but because of what we failed to see.

That moment and others helped to shape me. It reinforced something I’ve come to believe deeply: every person has a story, and discernment requires compassion before judgment.

 

Reflections of an Older Man

As the years have passed, I’ve become more aware of my own limitations—physically, emotionally, and mentally. I feel tired at times in ways I didn’t when I was younger. Recuperation takes longer now. Rest is no longer optional; it’s necessary.

That’s why I’ve had to become intentional about stewarding my well-being. Mental stress relief, physical exercise, and consistent time at the gym aren’t luxuries for me—they’re lifelines. That space gives me room to breathe, to think, to process, and to reflect. It strengthens me physically, yes, but it also steadies me emotionally and mentally.

I’ve learned that if we don’t create margin, life will drain us dry. And too many in ministry confuse depletion with devotion.

 

The Desire for Do-Overs

If I’m honest, there are moments I wish I could redo.

Things I regret. Words I wish I’d spoken differently—or not at all. People I wish I’d noticed more. Moments where I could have ministered more effectively or loved more intentionally.

Time is relentless. Once it’s gone, it’s gone.

Do I have regrets? Absolutely.

Do I wish I had known then what I know now? Without question.

But here’s what I’ve learned: while we can’t reclaim yesterday, we can redeem today. Scripture exhorts us to redeem the time—not just by avoiding waste, but by living intentionally, wisely, and humbly in the present.

I often return to one of my old sayings:

Every life experience can become a life lesson, and every life lesson becomes part of our life message.

God wastes nothing—if we’re willing to learn.

 

The Cost and Privilege of Calling

Being in what I often describe as “the ministry of serving others” carries a cost few see.

Discernment doesn’t come cheaply. It requires a great deal of mental, emotional, and spiritual “deletion”—letting go of assumptions, ego, offense, and self-protection.

There is privilege in it, yes. There is deep purpose, especially when lives are genuinely impacted in godly and lasting ways. But there is also exhaustion—real, bone-deep exhaustion.

I don’t think most people understand the constant internal and external wrestling with God that comes with surrendering to His call. The intercession. The weight of responsibility. The unseen battles. The emotional labor of caring deeply while remaining anchored.

And if I’m candid, one of the things I haven’t always done well is learning how to rest physically—especially during intense seasons of responding to the needs of others. Good intentions don’t negate human limits.

 

Fixing Our Eyes on the Source

I’ve learned—sometimes the hard way—that true replenishment doesn’t come from applause, productivity, or even successful ministry outcomes. It comes from keeping our eyes fixed on the Lord.

He alone restores the soul.

He alone gives wisdom—both spiritual and practical.

He alone teaches us when to advance and when to pause.

In a world that celebrates speed, visibility, and constant output, I believe God is calling us back to discernment, compassion, and faithfulness—especially toward the underdogs, the overlooked, and the misunderstood.

Because often, they’re closer to the heart of God than we realize.

And perhaps, in learning to see them more clearly, God is also teaching us how to see ourselves—and Him—with greater clarity.

 

BY DOUG STRINGER