This past week, we played a game called Christians vs. Centurions. It’s probably the coolest game ever for the age range we work with. Depending on their age level, they add their own strategies and twists to the game. I always get excited to see how the girls interact with the rules and how the game evolves. I’m an anthropologist at heart, I suppose.

The gist: There is a group of Christians whose main goal is to read aloud the entire chapter of John 3. They are given one Bible, a flashlight, a walkie talkie and a large building to run amok in. Depending on the size of the group, there are 2-4 Centurions. They get to run around and tag people and bring them to jail. The Christians win when they successfully hide and read through John 3. The Centurions win when they successfully capture all the Christians. The game is a mash-up of tag, hide-and-seek and, depending on the girls, sardines. It rocks.

Last Monday, however, I was appalled with how the game ended up. It was going on forever and ever, so I went in search of the Bible to see how the girls were doing. At the far end of the building, up a flight of stairs and a dark, lonely hallway later, I found the Bible sitting in a corner. Alone. With no one reading from it. No one fighting for it. And no one cared.

After I called the game a draw, I sat the girls down and shared a bit with them. I was probably a bit too passionate about it, but I was concerned that no one wanted to read, if even for the sake of winning the game. The were just content on hiding from the Centurions and relying on someone else to make progress for them.

I honestly laid in bed that night thinking about it more, unable to get the foul taste of complacency out of my mouth. I was upset with the girls and confused as to why those feelings were tugging at me so. Then it hit me.

I do the same thing.

I often catch myself standing by, while someone else  is doing all the fighting. I often hide from productivity for the sake of being comfortable. I often leave my Bible hiding in a dark corner with no intention of taking risks for it.

I ought to be as passionate for the word of God as I am about these games we play.

Right now, we’ve got two maps hanging in our room; a world map and a map of the USA. One day, while gazing at the globe on our wall, she says to me, “It’s my goal to know all the countries of the world and where they are.” Mainly, because her heart truly lies in the nations of the world and what the Lord is doing through missions, but secondarily because that sort of knowledge would be really cool. At least to me.

So I seconded her statement and made it my own.

I found a blank map so we could practice filling it in (I gave up much sooner that she did the first time around) and I found this game:

I highly recommend playing; it’s educational and incredibly addicting. Tumaini and I will sometimes sit at our perspective computers and race to see who could get the highest score in the shortest amount of time. She always wins.

So my dear friend, when you get around to reading this post, this is for you:

Let’s start memorizing this right away.

I played Sequence today with some friends. This is how the game ended up. Not only was it the longest game ever, but no one got to relish in victory.