I don't think God said we should all be soft. My job is to

The words of Dikembe Mutombo — “I don't think God said we should all be soft. My job is to compete, and the best prevails. I will continue to play, and that's the way I'm succeeding in my life. If I hit you by mistake, all I can say is 'I'm sorry,' and I keep moving on.” — are not merely the reflections of an athlete, but the creed of a warrior who understands both the sacredness of struggle and the dignity of humility. In these words, Mutombo unites the spirit of faith, the discipline of labor, and the acceptance of imperfection, teaching us how to live with both ferocity and grace.

To say that God did not command us to be soft is to remind us that life is not meant to be lived in passivity. Existence demands striving, labor, and at times, confrontation. The ancients knew that the path to virtue is not smooth; it is forged in the furnace of resistance. To compete is not merely to battle against others, but to wrestle with ourselves, to push beyond the limits of our own fears and weaknesses. This is the essence of Mutombo’s message: life is a contest, not of cruelty, but of endurance, skill, and spirit.

Yet even in the fire of competition, Mutombo acknowledges the hand of God. The divine does not call us to cruelty but to courage. To prevail is not to destroy one’s opponent, but to bring forth the best within ourselves. Victory, in his vision, is not merely about the scoreboard but about fulfilling the purpose of our being, about playing the role assigned to us with all the vigor and dignity we can summon. In this way, struggle itself becomes an offering, a way of honoring the life given to us.

History offers us countless mirrors to this truth. Consider the tale of Hercules, who did not achieve greatness by living softly, but by facing his twelve labors. Each task — impossible in appearance — drew out a new measure of strength and courage. So too with Mutombo, whose towering presence on the basketball court was not merely a display of size, but of character forged through hardship, discipline, and the will to rise above obstacles. The hero, whether in myth or in sport, becomes an emblem of what humans can achieve when they refuse softness and embrace the struggle.

Yet woven into his words is another sacred lesson: the humility to say, “I’m sorry.” For even the strongest competitor will err, will stumble, will strike when he did not intend. The measure of greatness is not in perfection but in the honesty to admit fault and the resolve to continue. To move on is to refuse the chains of guilt or pride; it is to acknowledge the mistake, honor it with apology, and then press forward. This is a teaching not only for the athlete but for all who live and labor among others.

The lesson here is twofold: be fierce in your striving, yet tender in your humanity. The world does not need men and women who are soft in spirit, unwilling to endure hardship, but neither does it need hearts hardened into cruelty. The balance, as Mutombo teaches, is to fight with all your might, and when harm comes unintentionally, to bow in humility, then rise again and press onward. This is the way to live with both strength and integrity.

Practical wisdom follows. In your life, do not fear competition — whether in work, study, or personal growth. See it as the fire that purifies your talents. Strive to prevail, but do so with fairness and respect. When you make mistakes, when you wound others in word or deed, have the courage to say, “I’m sorry.” Then let the burden fall away, and continue to move on, carrying the lesson but not the weight of shame. In this way, you will succeed not only in tasks, but in character.

Thus, Mutombo’s words endure as a hymn of balance: God did not make us to be soft, but neither did He make us to be cruel. He made us to strive, to compete, to prevail, and to live with humility. Let us, then, live boldly, speak truthfully, fight nobly, and when we falter, let us apologize, rise, and continue on. For in the rhythm of striving and moving forward, we find the true victory of life.