Reflecting upon Saturday's gaming spree and Saturday's service during Sunday's worship gave me a few real-world applications for future implementation.
Matthew 16:25
"For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it."
Like most of my gaming experiences, when I game I am free of cares and concerns. I am in a zone, full of emotional white noise to clear away the din of distractions. When I finish, I find myself no better, and my concerns ever present, or even more pressing.
When I dedicated myself to lending a hand to a friend of a friend on Saturday I found my own cares were gone. I gave of my time, energy, and strength to help individuals who may not have had others to aid them. I came away feeling good, not just about myself, but in general. I had a lot of other things going on and needed to be about my business, not just my Father's.
After my to-dos got done, I settled down for a 12-hour gaming marathon.
Did I study for my finals? no
Did I help my mom with things around her house? no
Did I help my *pregnant* wife do laundry at my parents' house? no
Did I get enough rest for a respectable Sabbath? no
Did I play a whole lot of Battlefront II with my friend Paul? Yes, to the point I said, I can't play this anymore!"
Did I stay up until 3 am playing Halo 2 on Live? Yes, because I am a nut!!!
What the heck?!? I was astonished to find people on Live to play with. Astonished. What was more astonishing to me was the intense desire to keep playing more. I can deal with sleep loss, and I can deal with getting things done at the last minute, but indulging in something and still wanting more is something I have a hard time with.
All day yesterday I just wanted to be left alone an back on Live. It was a particularly disturbing inclination. What is the point? How is this making me better, like I felt when I gave my time, talents, and energy for the benefit of someone else?
Just to add another anecdote to the mix of moral reasoning. . . when I was in my meeting on Friday with the Stanford professor most of those in attendance had played games of some sort before, but either no longer played or did not think of themselves as a "gamer". They cited time and relevance being the contributing factors. I thought this was due in large measure to the fact that I was in a room full of well-educated individuals bent on productivity and professional accomplishment in a technical area led me to dismiss the wholesale rejection of my favorite pass time.
Perhaps I stay only because I lack the strength to leave.