Snakes and Ladders in our home
I do not lose well. Let me just say that upfront. Anyone who
knows me might know that about me. That is why I feel qualified to write on
this topic, because I need it as much as anyone.
I think I would define humility,
at least in part,
as the ability to lose well.
at least in part,
as the ability to lose well.
To be able to lose well requires mastery over our pride. It
means we can stomach the victories that others have, not decrying them their
moment of success. It would mean, also, that we genuinely pray for others to be
successful, even at our expense, if that was best overall. And that takes great
wisdom to be able to see and concede that — what is best overall. It is a hard
prayer to pray, especially if we’re talking about praying for somebody who is
not innately connected with us, including possibly somebody who we think has
done us harm. (But Jesus did say, ‘Pray for your enemies.’)
I marvel at such a prayer, and would covet such an ability, and
occasionally I have tasted it, but it is far from mastered in my character. In
my secret being, I know I still need to be mechanically humbled (meaning I must
consciously allow it to occur) when I experience failure.
It seems to me that the character of the Beatitudes is very much
about being able to count it a joy in losing well. And it is easy to gloss over
these words and not let them penetrate us to the point where we face the truth.
In the moment of such truth,
when the pressure’s on,
we’d much rather face away from the truth.
when the pressure’s on,
we’d much rather face away from the truth.
Such truth is always inconvenient.
It’s a bit like the game of snakes and ladders. As we played
recently, I was reminded how important it is, for the game’s sake, to be able
to land on a snake’s head and slide down the snake with grace. Just as
important is rising upon a ladder without gloating. Because snakes and ladders
is a fickle game. Life is a bit like that, isn’t it?
Success and failure come indiscriminately. As soon as we’ve had
a success, and we bask in the glory, we are soon disappointed to face failure
again. I recall Rudyard Kipling mentioning how triumphant and disaster were both imposters in his famous poem “If”.
Success doesn’t last, but nor does failure.
Failure doesn’t feel like defeat if
we can live patiently without success.
we can live patiently without success.
If we can live without needing success,
nothing of this world can truly defeat us.
See the victory in that?
nothing of this world can truly defeat us.
See the victory in that?
From my standpoint it can seem impossible to arrive at a place
where losing well is a consistent attitudinal and behavioural trait. In other
words, to be able to not get our own way and still be happy, even perfectly
content, just as much as if we did get our own way.
It’s perhaps the biggest challenge of discipleship. To be able
to miss out on what we want, and to understand our desires are okay, without
letting them blur into demands; it’s a key character victory, and the sign of
Christ in us.
We can rest assured we please God no end when we have the
attitude of His glorification in our mind and heart when things are going
against us. This is no easy destination to arrive at, but be encouraged, it is
something we can practice in any given moment.
Be greatly encouraged when you’re doing it tough
when you have an attitude of joy.
when you have an attitude of joy.
Such an attitude is chosen.
It never comes naturally.
It is a decision of the will.
It never comes naturally.
It is a decision of the will.
Perhaps that is what gives us most courage for the future; to
know that in being at peace in defeat pleases God. And that the real victory is
the character we show in defeat.
To count it a joy to lose well is to acknowledge God’s work in
us in conforming our character to Christ.
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