Ever play The Game? You know, that weird anti-memory thing where the rule is: if you think about The Game, you lose? I hadn’t thought about it in a while—until this afternoon. Probably because I caught myself doing the same thing with Jesus.
I was folding laundry, not thinking about Him at all, and then it hit me: “Wait, I wasn’t thinking about Jesus.” Boom. I lost The Game.
Only, this is not a game—it’s my walk with Him.
It’s weird how that works. The Game’s whole trick is you’re fine until you remember it, and then you lose.
And today, I realized that’s how it goes with God sometimes. I’ll be cruising through my day—driving, writing, more driving—and then it hits me. I haven’t invited Him into it. Maybe I’m too caught up in the id—all those little wants and worries pulling me sideways.
I just… forget.
And the second I notice, it’s like losing The Game all over again. Except instead of a silly “dang it,” it’s a quiet, “Hey, where’d you[Jesus] go in my head?”
The idea to try and always be thinking of Jesus came to me as I was reciting 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 to myself.
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18—“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”
This is like a mantra to me. I say these verses all the time because they’re such a concise prescription of what a Christian ought to do. When we who want to be good Christians ask ourselves, “What can we do?” Paul says, “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances.”
Man, that’s a tall order. Pray without ceasing?
Like, every second?
It sounds like we’re supposed to be muttering prayers non-stop. But as I’ve been studying Colossians 3, 1 Kings 8, and Proverbs, I’ve seen a recurring theme.
Colossians 3:16-17—“Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”
1 Kings 8:27
“But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Behold, heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, how much less this house that I have built!”
Proverbs 8:17
“I love those who love me, and those who seek me find me.”
It’s about inviting God into our life and keeping Him in the mix—having a constant awareness. Like breathing. You don’t think about every breath, but it’s always there. So that’s a goal I’ve set for myself.
It’s not easy. The other morning, I began to stress when I noticed how many medical appointments had racked up on my calendar, and my mind was spiraling.
No rejoicing. No thanks. Definitely no Jesus.
Then I caught it—like remembering The Game—and thought, “Okay, I’ve lost this round.” But here’s the twist: losing’s not the end. When I realize I’ve drifted, it’s a chance to invite Him back in.
I stop, take a breath, and say, “Hey, Jesus, come back into this.” Like Paul’s saying: start rejoicing now. Pray right here. Give thanks even when your mortality nudges its way into your thoughts.
Final Thought:
I’m not there yet—nowhere close. Sometimes I’m rooted in Him, like Colossians keeps telling me to be. And other times, it takes that “oh shoot, I lost” moment to pull me back. Maybe that’s what Paul meant—living so tuned to God that drifting feels like losing, and coming back feels like home.
It’s a weird little parallel, this Game thing, but at least it got me thinking:
How often do I let Him slip out of focus?
And how quick can I turn it around when I do?
But I think that’s the point. The goal isn’t perfection; it’s persistence.
Keeping Jesus in the game—not The Game, but my game, my life. Every time I catch myself forgetting, it’s a win. Because I’m remembering to bring Him in again.
Let me know what you think.