The Night “The Game of Life” Changed Me

I write this post hesitantly.  The subject I want to talk about is something that is touchy- and something that I don’t want to even remotely begin to pretend like I understand, because I don’t understand at all.  It’s hard to truly understand something unless you’ve experienced it. 

Even though my stomach has growled many times, I’ve never understood hunger, because I’ve always had food to eat.  Even though my mouth has been dry many times, I’ve never understood true thirst, because I’ve never been without something to drink.  Even though I’ve longed for home so many times, I’ve never truly understood homelessness, because I’ve always had a home to return to and live in…

And I’ve never understood infertility because that’s a road that I’ve never had to walk.  I’ve prayed with friends through dark, hopeless days.  I’ve pleaded with God to grant precious family members the desire of their hearts as they have longed for a baby that they weren’t sure God would ever give them.  I am sensitive to the subject because I have watched people that I love dearly struggle through this heartbreak.  Struggle is too mild a word though.  It’s more than a struggle.  It’s heart wrenching and something that consumes them daily as they watch others around them become pregnant, birth babies, and raise children.  I’ve watched it with my eyes and I’ve felt the sting in my heart as I’ve watched my loved ones hurt.  But I’ve never truly understood it, because I’ve never lived it.

So, if you choose to continue reading this- please read on with a soft and forgiving heart, knowing that I’m not at all claiming to get it, because I don’t get it at all.  Justin and I became pregnant with our 10 year old and I never missed a pill, but went on antibiotics for a sinus infection.  Then when we were ready to have another baby, we tried and it happened the first month.  And then again, when we were ready to have our third, we tried and the pregnancy test was positive the first time.  I’m not saying that to brag.  I’m saying that to reinforce the fact that I TRULY. DO. NOT. UNDERSTAND.  I’m not an expert by any means, but tonight, when I was playing the game of “Life” with my family, God opened my eyes a little bit.

Paxton, my four year old little girl, has more motherly instincts than a lot of grown women.  I’m not kidding.  She always has a baby doll in her hands, and nothing thrills her heart more than when she actually gets her hands on a real baby.  Then she’s truly in her element and her smile is even bigger than it is on normal days.  When you ask her what she wants to be when she grows up, she almost always says “A Mom” (and a movie theatre worker).  My little girl loves babies.

And she also loves playing “the game of life.”  Anytime we play, she always chooses the family path and she always tries to fill her car up with babies.

Last night, when we played, it wasn’t any different.  She  picked the pink car.  She always does, and that’s okay around here since she is the only little girl.  She put her pink peg, representing herself in the drivers seat, and we started the game.  The first thing she did was buy a house.  She had to buy the 100 thousand dollar beach hut though, because she couldn’t afford the 600 thousand dollar island vacation home.  A couple of spins later, she had to stop to get married.  She was giddy with excitement.  She was the first to buy a house, and now she was the first to get married.  I handed her a blue peg, representing her husband, and we had to pause and take a little bit of a break, because she had to move the pink peg and put the blue peg in the driver’s seat because the husband is supposed to drive.  We played on.  She spun and moved her car.  Her daddy spun and moved his car.  Knox spun and moved his car.  Jaxon spun and moved his car.  And then it came time for her to stop and choose the life path or the family path.  And obviously she chose the family path- because like I said, she always does.  She couldn’t contain her excitement.  She was giggling she was so happy.  It was finally time to put some little pink and blue pegs in the back of her car.  So she spun that wheel again.  And she spun a 10.  She counted out the spaces… one, two, three, four… five… six….. seven……. eight…… nine…. And ten.  By spinning a 10, she completely skipped over every opportunity to “have a baby.”  Her little bottom lip pooched out, and she began to quietly cry.  She said over and over and over again, “I just want to have a kid…”

But by spinning a 10, it automatically sent her to the next stop sign.  And the instructions were as follows:
Spin a 1-3: 0 babies.
Spin a 4-6: 1 baby.
Spin a 7-8: Twins.
Spin a 9-10: Triplets.

Here was her chance.  She would surely get a baby or two or three now. 

So with tear filled eyes, she spun the wheel again.  And she spun a 1.

The tears started streaming down her face as she got up from the table and stomped away into the kitchen.  Justin and I laughed a little bit at her at first, but then I felt God speaking to my heart- and man did it hurt.  She was wailing by this point.  “I. JUST. WANT. TO HAVE A KID…..”

I couldn’t take her crying like that.  I couldn’t take her being so heartbroken.  So against the demands of her two competitive big brothers, I called her back to the table so that she could spin the wheel and try one more time.

She spun.  And spun a 3.

More tears came.  I’m not exaggerating when I say that by this point, she could barely breathe she was crying so hard.

Her brothers yelled at me when I said, “Paxton, spin one more time.”

So she spun one more time.  And I kid you not- she spun a 2.

Zero kids.  Zero kids.  Zero kids.

Fortunately there are two more spots on the board once you’re off of the family path that will allow you a baby.  But once again, when it was her turn to spin, she spun a 10 and skipped right over those spaces.

Heartbroken doesn’t even begin to describe her.  Her silent tears turned to anger and her anger turned into a complete meltdown.  She screamed over and over again from the deepest part of her throat “I JUST WANT TO HAVE A KID!!!!!!!!!”  Her voice became hoarse from crying and screaming so much…

And I felt a lump form in my throat as I watched her hurt.

And I felt God tell me “this is just a game.  But life… well, life’s not a game.  And this doesn’t even begin to touch the hurt that those that you love feel day after day after day as they lift their head and their hands to the sky and yell at Me, “I just want to have a kid…. I just want to have a kid… I JUST WANT TO HAVE A KID…”

By the time the game was over, she owned more homes than anyone else.  She went on vacation more than anyone else.  She got married first and she retired first.  At the end of the game, she won, because she had more money than anyone else.

But the houses and the money and the vacations didn’t matter one bit to her because all she wanted was to just… have… a… kid.

She won the game but there were still tears running down her face as we put the game pieces back in the box. 

So, friends, I still don’t get it completely.  I still haven’t walked that road.  But I do think I got it a little more now that I’ve watched my four year old little girl that was born to be a Mommy grieve over “the game of life.”

I’m thankful God is faithful.  I’m thankful He is still in the business of answering prayers when people come to Him facedown on their living room floor and plead with Him for a baby… they plead with Him that they “just want to have a kid…”

And I am thankful for the amazing blessing of adoption.  And how sometimes God gives us babies through adoption that we couldn’t love more and couldn’t be a bigger part of our family even if they would have been born with the same blood.

But I know there are still some out there that are still hoping, and anxiously anticipating, and spinning.  And spinning again.  And spinning again.  The blue and pink pegs are in the car, but the back seat is still empty.  So they spin.  And they spin again. 

And as you’re spinning, God probably feels a million miles away.  I can’t actually begin to imagine how far away He probably feels.  But He’s there.  He’s got a lump in His throat and He can’t stand to watch you hurt.  He’s okay with your tears.  He’s even okay with your anger, as long as you keep coming back to Him with it.  I promise you, He hurts for you.  It hurts Him so much to see your heart break. 

Please know that.  Please believe that.

Keep spinning, my friends.  And keep hoping.  And keep believing…  God has a plan for Your life and He can do exceedingly abundantly more than you could ever ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20).

I still don’t understand it.  And I won’t pretend to.  But my heart will never see your tears the same again after watching the tears stream down the face of my heartbroken little girl tonight as she won “the game of life,” but it didn’t matter because the back seat of her pink car was still empty.