Parky60 Loc: People's Republic of Illinois

As a kid my Uncle Cy used to come to our house 3 or 4 times a year. Granted, he spent a good bit of his time with my dad, but he always found time for me and my brother. He loved to tell us jokes and make us laugh, but our favorite pastime with Uncle Cy was playing games. Card games, dominoes, board games, it did not matter. He would play any game we asked him to play. And he never treated us like babies or let us win to simply end the game faster. No, Uncle Cy played to win, and he played fairly. But he always reminded us when we started a game that he would never, ever play with c***ters.

“C***ters never win!” he said.

I am sure you know what happened next. Yes, my brother, my uncle, and I were playing a game of Parcheesi when I fell way behind. Always competitive, I could not bear the thought of losing to my baby brother; plus, I was mighty jealous of him conspiring and laughing with Uncle Pete. I felt quite left out, so I did it. I c***ted! And in no time at all, I caught up and won. My victory was sweet but short-lived.

“Aww, let’s play again,” said my brother. “Come on, Uncle Cy, we’ll beat him this time.”

“No,” whispered my uncle, as he pushed his chair back from the table, “I cannot play with c***ters.”

My brother and I grew quiet and still, and I realized that he had seen my dishonest moves.

I giggled nervously and said, “I was just kidding. I didn’t really mean to c***t.”

“But you did; you c***ted,” my uncle said dejectedly, “Now, I can’t trust you. We can do other things together, but I can never trust you to play this game again.”

And we never did.

My uncle was angry with me that day, but his anger subsided. Later on, we played other games together and told other jokes, but it was not the same. I knew when he looked at me that he saw me differently. He knew I was a c***ter, and I knew it too. And that t***h was harder to bear than any punishment he could have ever doled out to me.

Why? Well, it was because I loved Uncle Cy, and I knew he loved me. He was the only adult man who ever took the time to play silly, childish games with us. And he was the only uncle who ever treated us like we were smart enough and grown up enough to really compete.

He just loved us. And my c***ting had left its mark on that love. Sin always leaves its mark. And make no mistake about it; my c***ting was a sin. I knew it was wrong, and I chose to do it anyway. I wanted what I wanted – regardless of the fallout or impact on others.

We live in a world that advocates for that very same philosophy of doing wh**ever we choose in order to get what we want and in order to find self-centered happiness in the here and now. Consequently, we also live in a world without accountability or remorse. We live in a world filled with sin and sinners.

Indeed, we are sinners in need of the Savior.

But the funny thing is many of us are unaware that each of us is the chief among sinners. Many people are quick to see and comment on the sin others commit. But we certainly don’t want to read or hear about our own spiritual indictments. In fact, we gravitate toward anyone or anything that broadcasts and bashes the sinful iniquities of the world. Yet, we often fail to recognize or acknowledge our own personal sins.

Instead, we label them as shortcomings, issues, struggles, problems, concerns, difficulties, flaws, or a plethora of user-friendly terms. We call them anything but what they really are – sins.

In doing so, in candy coating and camouf**ging our sins with nicer sounding words, we are doing the very same thing Adam and Eve did when they committed that first sin way back in the Garden of Eden. We are figuratively sewing a few fig leaves over our very visible spiritual nakedness.

The t***h is that anything we say or do that is unlike our Savior is indeed sin. He knows it; we know it, and so does everyone else. We can hide behind verbiage all day long, but the whole world sees us wallowing in our self-justified sin. And they say nothing because they approve of us wallowing in our sin like they do.

What absolute absurdity! Sin is sin, regardless of the words we use to disguise or defend it.

Yet, we choose not only to sin but also to pretend we don’t sin by hiding behind our lying terminology. And that self-deception is the most horrendous part of our sin.

Like my precious Uncle Cy, Jesus will never stop loving us, but He cannot “play” with us if we knowingly choose to continue in our sin.

Remember, sin is not a game.

Ricktloml

Very good...and so true. It's too bad, but hard lessons seem to be those that are indelibly learned. Thanks

Canuckus Deploracus Loc: North of the wall

I trust you Parky...
More than some, less than others...