Tonight I did something
amazing. I won my 300th game of Freecell (with a 100% win
rate, I might add). I had a momentary feeling of “Yeah! Go me!”
And then I paused a moment to wonder where I found all that time to
play a computer game. Admittedly, I play about 95% of my Freecell—a
solitare card game that comes standard with Windows, for those who
don't know—after 9:30 pm. This is my 1-hour wind-down time before
bed. It's a time when I might do a little bit of work
(correspondence and such, although I try to avoid it because I get
rather emotional and long-winded conversing about the populations I
serve...and get geared up to solve all of the world's problems in one
night), but I mostly read or sew or play computer games.
To be completely honest, I
used to play a lot more computer games than I play now. I'd probably
played about 250 of those Freecell games before I decided that
computer games were distracting from my focus. What does that
calculate to? Two hundred fifty souls who I could have told about
the good news of Jesus? Two hundred fifty hurting women and children
who I could have spoken words of hope? Two hundred fifty mouths I
could have fed? Two hundred fifty what? Quite frankly, I'm a little
embarrassed that I've hit three hundred, even though I know that I've
changed my habits.
I know I'm not my job. I
know I don't have to be a missionary 24/7. But I'm a missionary
because it's what God called me to be, and God didn't call me to pull
a 40-hour work week. I feel like I'm always “on call” so to
speak. But it annoys me that people get caught up about missionaries
and pastors. “Of course you're good. You're a missionary.”
“Oh, I know you don't want to go to the party with us. You're a
pastor. There will be alcohol there.” No, that's not who we are.
It's not because we're missionaries and pastors; it's not because
people scrutinize us more because of our callings. What we are are
Christians, and sometimes that means going to the party because
there
will
be
alcohol.
What
kind
of
a
friend,
what
kind
of
a
sister am
I
if
I
let
you
go
to
that
party
where
I
know
you'll
be
tempted?
And
if
I
can't
deter
you,
I'd
better
go
with
you
to
say,
“Hey,
think
about
what
you're
doing.
I'm
here
with
you.
Let's
drink
soda
pop
together,
enjoy
the
music,
and
catch
up
on
each
other's
lives.”
Being
a
missionary
(nor
a
pastor)
isn't
a
24/7
job.
Being
a
Christian
is 24/7,
but
it's
not
a
job;
it's
a
belief,
a
way
of
life,
a
way
of
being,
a
faith.
Who did
those 250 (or even 300) games minister to? No one. For that, I'm
ashamed. I know God forgave me for those games about 2000 years ago,
but I'm going to try to make up for it. I know I'll never succeed,
that there's nothing I can do to change my sin, but I do know that my
sins have been forgiven and that I should “go and sin no more.”
