Today my friend creamed me at Scrabble. Then she had the audacity to challenge me to another game! Hasn’t she ever heard the phrase, “cut my losses”?
But she’s right: if we never got back in the saddle, we’d forever be dragging our backsides in the dirt; a real pain in the rear.
So, I picked up her glove, gently tapped her cheek, and resumed the gauntlet. First turn: she passed. So did I; “Touché!” Ooh, but she’s shrewd: she passed again. Brother; we could be here all day; I did a letter swap.
There are some scuffles it seems futile to wrestle with. “I’ve lost against this rival before; why bother?” Yes, there’s something to be said for picking your battles. But even that entails discretion: deciding whether the struggle is worthwhile. As for the Scrabble game, I had to admit that in the first game I hadn’t tried very hard; it could only benefit me to accept her challenge.
Over these many years as a pilgrim on this earth, almost every dilemma in which I’ve found myself has initially been met with my favorite knee-jerk reaction—to turn tail and run. My husband calls it “digging my heels in.” I’m not proud of this; I should have more faith:
2 Cor. 4:8-10 We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed— always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body.
For some challenges, I’ve discovered that taking no action can be a good thing. After all, any good strategy starts with brainstorming in the bunker. Come to think of it, God seems to do His best handiwork without me gumming up the works.
So I’ll take a cue from my worthy word-game opponent: Pass. Wait. Repeat.