Bid High or Sleep in the Street

I don’t know if your family loves a good family game night or not but ours does.  Even now when the grandkids come down, the Uno cards come out.  International negotiations pale to the deliberations over the validity of scrabble words.  Artists blossom as Pictionary words are captured in strange and abstract drawings that can only be deciphered by those who are well schooled in art appreciation. Debates fiercer than anything Lincoln and Douglas ever dreamed of rage over who gets to be the racecar for the Monopoly game.  Years ago when my children were little, we would go to Grandpa and Grandma’s farm house and a game of Rook would almost always have to be played.  For those of you who don’t know, Rook is a card game with the possibility of attaining 120 points in each hand.  We would play teams so partners would declare how many of the 120 points they were confident the two of them could win together with the hand dealt to them.  There was no table talk allowed as to what your partner had but there was a lot of under the table innuendos that a certain number could be made with the help of the partner and then closely watching your partner’s face to see if sheer horror or a slight smile or the little “I’ll help you with that” was uttered. 

No matter what cards our son was dealt, he would boldly proclaim that he was capable of making some ridiculously high number and sometimes the full 120 points.  And then the caveat “countin on you Grandpa” would always follow and Grandpa, without fail, would say ok Toby bid high or sleep in the street. (Where that phrase came from or exactly what it means is still a mystery to me.)  It was remarkable how many times the two of them would actually pull off the ridiculous claim made by a fearless child.

I think about those Rook games played around the dining room table on a hot summer night in Iowa.  I think about a little boy who would boldly go far beyond his own capabilities knowing he could count on his Grandpa.  The joy on his face as he looked around the table to see lesser players fold their cards and say pass and the joy on his Grandpa’s face as he swelled with pride that his grandson was placing complete trust in his ability to make the impossible possible.

Life is not a game and there is a whole lot more at stake than going in the hole a few points if you don’t make your number but I still think there is a lesson to be learned. I would have to admit that most of the time I take life way too serious and allow fear to control me.  I count the cost, run the numbers, make a graph, list pros and cons and then shoot just a little lower than what I realistically think I can achieve.  I play it safe.  I wonder what life would be like if I loosened my grip and lived just a little bit on the dangerous side.  What if I would count the cost, run the numbers, make a graph, list the pros and cons and then try something way beyond my capabilities and trust God to make up the difference.  I wonder if life would take on a sense of adventure that would cause my face to radiate joy and I wonder if God’s face would light up knowing His daughter completely trusted Him to make up the difference and make the impossible possible.

Yes, I hear you saying but what if you fail?  I think Grandpa and Toby would both tell me to go for it.  There were those times when the two of them couldn’t come up with the cards to bring in the points and they would go in the hole but I will have to say that the two of them had more fun going in the hole than the rest of us who played it safe and supposedly won. 

What would you do if you were completely convinced that God was your partner?  What would you do if you had complete confidence that God would make the impossible possible?

He is and He will.