When I moved into GOTH Manor, I delightfully took up a forgotten childhood hobby of mine: videogames.
It was one of the primary ways my older brother and I spent time together. Picking up a controller reminded me of games like Kingdom Hearts, Need for Speed, and 007: Agent Under Fire. Going through Hannah’s stack of PlayStation games (I beat 5 for the record—just saying) was a cathartic way to unwind after stressful days at work.
But then, the PlayStation died.
I attempted a few solutions to no avail, but there was no resuscitating the dusty box. Making the PlayStation’s death all the worse was the fact that I was in the middle of the most enthralling game yet. Now there was zero chance of me finishing the game.
I’ve been trying to come up with an analogy to explain my disappointment. Say you’re reading an amazing novel, or watching an exceptional movie. It’s just getting good: you know the characters, the plot is picking up, the main tensions are ratcheting up…and then poof. Your novel, or movie, disappears with no chance of you ever finishing it. You would feel cheated, right?
I already gave up sweets for Lent, but as it turns out, I think God had other plans in mind. As I reflected on how God could be working in my life, it seemed like he was saying, “Alright, David. You talk about struggling to find time for your real passions—especially writing fiction. This Lent, I’ve taken something away in order to give you a gift. Now you have time on your hands, so pick up your pen and get to it!”
At first, the PlayStation dying did not feel like a gift, and I still have moments of bitterness when I see that black box, now sadly tucked away. However, this Lent I have written more. With one less distraction, I feel more empowered to achieve the writing goals I’ve set. And this is great news.
Although using uncomfortable methods, God is setting me up well to succeed in what is truly life-giving to me, and for that, I am grateful.