Winner Winner

Mike and I play this strategy card game, called Race for the Galaxy.  He just bought the 2nd Expansion Arc, so we are playing tonight with an added "orb."  Very interesting.  I hated playing this game in the beginning, and then after playing about 12 times, I started to really like it.  Now, it's my favorite game that we play together.  But tonight, the practice game, with the orb, was very confusing.  Once the game was over, I realized that every token from the orb had symbols on it that could have helped me throughout the game.  "It's very beneficial to expand the orb so you can collect tokens, which give you bonuses throughout the game," he says while cleaning up the cards.  Would have been nice to know half way through the game, or possibly in the beginning? Oh well, it was practice.

I had very good professors in college, and my violin professor had me pegged.  He would say things like,  "You should pray for the strength to practice and not pray to have a good lesson."  He said this in the context of another student, leaving me to read between the lines, but this is basically what he meant.  I can imagine how much better a musician I would be if I had done just that.  Is that what you call a lazy streak and supplement it with prayer?  I'd say so.

So, are we really in a practice round of life, or is this the real thing?  Do we have little orb tokens with symbols on them and have no idea that they will help us? Maybe. Do we have access and translation for the living and active Word of God and not bother reading it? Yes.  I know some very insightful people, whom I would never assume would miss the orb tokens of life, but maybe they do.   It is an investment of asking for wisdom and insight, gleaning from the scriptures, and working to get there.

The world offers many options for what it means to win. What will be yours? 


Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air.  But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified. 1 Cor 9:24-27

I can tell you right now, the competition will be on tomorrow night.  I better be on my A-game to get these orb symbols worked out, so I can give a hearty dose of competition and possibly win.  We do plenty of things with passion but we don't give each other prizes for 2nd place.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Black Clouds and Pandemics

Being on-call is like a pandemic in our house.  There is a heated moment when you get to the middle or near-end of a strategy game, especially a game we have, which is actually called Pandemic.  In this game, the world is simulated as having a pandemic outbreak of a disease, and the players are the health team trying to stop the pandemic and find cures.  We don't have an outbreak of disease in our actual household, thank goodness, we have an outbreak of the beeper going off throughout the night when Mike is on-call. Call days are clearly marked on our calendar.  "CALL" is exactly what I write on the top of each day Mike is on call; I dread it, he dreads it.  But it is a day set aside, part of the gig, and patients do not wait until the glossy hours of 9-5 to get sick, so someone has to be available.  We both know this full well, but this does not go without taking a toll on the household. As a wife, it is almost impossible to relax until the call has b...
Read more

Bleach

Image
I had some mysterious stains on a few bibs and dish towels. The first bib where I found these mysterious stains, I put straight bleach on, and then let it sit until I was ready to do a white load, and the bleach proceeded to eat holes in the fabric. Luckily, the lettering stayed in tact to say, "my daddy's a cardiologist." But now I feel bad every time I put the bib on David, because it has holes in it. I can't bring myself to throw it out, unless maybe I replace it one day. If we wear it out of the house now, it might as well say, "my daddy's a cardiologist and my mommy can't wash my laundry." Let's not do that again. So I tried again with some more bibs and dishtowels. I put them in a bucket of water, with some bleach added. (The stains were not that mysterious, they were moldy stains.) Grown from neglect and moisture, buried in either a bag, the bottom of the stroller, the car, or the bottom of a hamper. My first bib goes into the...
Read more

Checking Pockets

While sorting through fresh pile laundry, I noticed a little midnight blue splotch here and there.  As I pull up more and more clothes to fold, there is not just a little splotch here and there, but streaks, huge splotches, whole white toddler collars turned to a tie-died blue-fest.  My C Wonder shirt that I wear weekly no longer has crisp thin navy lines over white, but blue and white meddled together as if to portray an overcast day's sky.  Now, rather than pulling for clothes to fold, I'm digging for the culprit while I intermittently spew out questions.  "Was there anything in your pocket from school this week? Did you happen to stick a crayon in your pocket?  Or one of those gel writers? Do you remember putting anything in your pocket? What could this be?"  The response is a stream of "no. no. no." Then, as if clarity hit, "Mommy, maybe a long, long time ago someone had something in their pocket and you forgot to check the pocket and then you wa...
Read more