I shuffled the cards in my hand. I hate it when they’re not organized. He’s trying to read my mind, I know he is. I continue to organize my hand, trying to figure out what the next strategic move should be.
“Are you gonna go?” he politely asks.
“I will, give me a minute. I’m trying to make a decision and figure out what I want to do.”
“Your making this more complicated than it needs to be.” He calmly states while playing with his white beard. He adjusts his robes and takes a sip from his cup. “You always make things more complicated than they need to be.”
I confess, “I know. I guess it’s a trait of mine.” I set my cards down and look at him straight in the eyes. “Why is that? Why do I always have to complicate things? Make things more than what they really are?”
“Why don’t you tell me.” He says while peering over the top of his glasses.
“Great!” I think. Here I was thinking I was invited up for a lovely game of cards, and it’s turning into a chance to analyze my behavior. I hate it when he does this. I shift in my chair. Although it quite comfortable, I suddenly am no longer able to relax and enjoy it. “I don’t know.” I shift my feet, look off to the left, and hope that he doesn’t continue to probe this suddenly uncomfortable situation. I really hate it when he explores my psyche . . . I just wanted to play a game!
“Yes, I think you do.” He states as a Father wanting his young child to admit why he did something.
“Because, well . . . I guess it’s because we always tend to make things more complicated than what they are. We were supposed to just love one another and follow the 10 commandments, and now there’s volumes and volumes of rules and restrictions. They were put in place by councils of men trying to exercise a form of control over another group. We always have a tendency to judge and the need to be right -- so much so that we’ll even kill for it. I don’t know why we do it, but we do. What this has to do with my card game I’ll never figure out.”
“Simple,” he smiles gently, takes another sip, smoothes out his robes, and adjusts his glasses. “You are trying so hard to make the right call, judge what my motivation is, that you are getting lost. You’re so tied up in trying to make the right decision, that you are not enjoying what you are doing. This game was meant to be enjoyed, to leisurely pass time. It’s not to guess what's right, what’s in my hand, and what will happen. Just play the game with joy, play the game with zest, and play the game with love. When hosting a game such as this, treat your guests well. And as a guest, be generous to your host. The rest will take care of itself.”
I pick up my cards and fan them out again. Suddenly, I’m much more rested. I take a drink and then wryly state “You’re not just talking about cards. Are you?” After a long but comfortable pause, I ask “Do you have a Queen?” I giggle.
God smiles. There’s a flash in his eye. And he says “Go fish.”