No "HEADS-UP!"
"LOOK OUT!"
"DUCK!"
The game changes.
The rules change.
And the game isn't over yet.
It's like playing those games as a little kid with all the other little kids.
Those games we developed on the fly, off the cuff, because there was still an hour or so of daylight left and we were all tired of playing catch and "500".
(Hello, Centrum Silver demographic. Remember?)
The same thing happened playing "House" or "School" or "Dolls".
(Hey, I grew up with Sister Here and Sister There. They're okay, but their games weren't much fun.)
And the game changes usually helped the one changing the game.
"All right," said Ray, "we're gonna have a rotten plum fight and we all gotta use our left hands."
And who was the only southpaw in our motley crew of neighborhood kids?
Thaaaaaat's riiiight.
Then, as we grew up, the games became a whole lot more serious, the changes more drastic and altering.
Jobs. Marriages. Health. Finances.
They change and our lives get radically turned and twisted.
This morning, I'm at the table, looking out on a grey, foggy day that matches my thoughts.
The Elixir is in a constant state of replenishment, the hot, brown liquid rippling through the grey fog in my head.
And I catch myself getting mad at Him.
He's got everything under control, right?
And here I am, feelin' like I got the short end of the stick.
The end that's constantly checking the depth of the manure pile.
Yeah.
That end.
A refill of Elixir and I plop into the Chair, disgusted with just about everything. And a thought slides in with the first slurp.
Huh.
I'll bet this is how sheep feel when they get herded and jammed into a pen at night.
Shot with syringes and force feed antibiotics.
Then being told to go over here. Graze. Now go over there.
Dumb sheep dog.
Stupid shepherd.
He's always changin' things.
Doin' things.
And the sheep haven't got a honkin' clue.
Then I remember a name.
The Good Shepherd.
The One that gave His life for those stupid, silly, forgetful sheep.
Because He loves them all.
Very much.
Even the large, unthankful, distrustful, Elixir-drinking,
pig-headed ones.
I sink back into the Chair, feeling repentant. And foolish.
And a little sheepish.