Tired of Playing Games
A little over a week ago, I was reading through the Lewis Carroll classic Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. It had been so long since I had read the tale that I wanted to refresh my memory. At one point, I laughed aloud while wiping tears from my cheeks. It wasn’t that the scene was that comical but rather that I could relate so very well at that moment.
While playing croquet with the Queen of Hearts, Alice soon discovers that the game is anything but ordinary. The mallets were live flamingoes, and live hedgehogs served as the croquet balls. The card soldiers bent backward to form the arches through which the balls could roll. The problems with this setup were many. Alice’s flamingo refused to stay stretched out and constantly curled up to stare her in the face. Once she finally got the flamingo to cooperate, she was frustrated to find that her hedgehog had unballed himself and scurried off the field. As if that weren’t trial enough, the soldiers constantly got up and walked to other parts of the court. In Carroll’s words, “Alice soon came to the conclusion that it was a very difficult game indeed.”
Have you ever felt like you were playing this game called life only to find that the game pieces kept moving around or wandering off completely? Have you tried your hardest to do the work the Lord called you to, only to feel like someone changed the game without telling you?
When I was reading Carroll’s book, I felt exactly like Alice. Our ministry was being attacked on several different fronts. My newsletter software and primary email account went completely wonky with no apparent reason or solution. And the stress from all of the above caused a severe fibromyalgia attack that put me in bed for over a week. As I lay in bed, forcing back tears, I felt like Alice. I was willing to play the game, but the pieces simply would not cooperate. So, as the frustration and fear threatened to overwhelm me, I did the only thing I could do. I turned toward heaven and cried, “What now, Lord?”
I wish I could tell you God spoke to me audibly, but that’s not true. However, he did the next best thing: He sent me a message. As I stared out the window, thinking how much the dreary weather reflected my current state of mind and body, I noticed a flurry of activity. Despite the rain, several birds were gathered atop the bushes outside the window, each waiting their turn to visit the bird feeder Jason had hung there. I watched the gentle creatures peck away at the feed and smiled for the first time in days, for the birds were none other than sparrows. This made me think of one of my all-time favorite hymns, “His Eye Is on the Sparrow.”
Though things felt out of control and frustrating beyond belief, God knew all about it and what to do next. He wasn’t surprised by the trials, nor did they deter him. Just as the Lord sent the ravens to feed the prophet, Elijah, He sent some sparrows to remind me that He is watching over me. And while it seemed to me that all my game pieces had wandered away to parts unknown, the Lord gently reminded me that they were never my pieces. In trying to play the game, I was inadvertently trying to control it. Now, it was time to let go and let God.
Friend, maybe you, too, feel like Alice. You’re doing your best to get through life and do everything you should do, but it feels as if someone keeps changing the game or moving your pieces around. May I remind you what the Lord reminded me? If He cares for the lilies of the field, the grass of the meadow, and the sparrows of the air, how much more does He care for us? We may not understand this new game board, but He does. We may not have all the solutions, but He does. And we may not feel like we’re in control of the situation, but that’s okay because we’re not supposed to be. That’s His job. Ours is to trust and obey. That’s it. It’s time to stop playing games and just live for the Lord.
Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God? But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows. - Luke 12:6-7