A Lay Down Hand

One of the great joys I have experienced since moving to Cat Spring has been the opportunity to play Skat.  Not many folks know of or how to play this German card game, but fortunately, there are a couple of gentlemen around here who still know how to play.

Once a month, my congregation has a Senior Service.  We gather at 11 a.m. for a brief worship service with Holy Communion.  Following worship, we have a meal together, and after the meal, we play games.  Bingo and dominoes garner the time for many there.  Three of us play Skat.  Everyone has learned not to bother us too much during that time.  The three of us are dedicated players and enjoy the game immensely.

For almost seven years, I have been playing with these gentlemen, and yesterday, I had something happen to me that hadn't happened before.  I picked up a "lay down hand."

Now, in Skat, every player is given 10 cards to begin with.  You bid on that hand.  If you win the bid, you have the option of picking up the "skat"--the two cards left over from the deal.  It can make or break your hand.

If you are lucky, you receive a hand where you don't need to pick up the skat.  If you are lucky, you can get dealt a perfect hand.  It's a rare thing to have it happen, and if you don't have any luck, you'll never experience such a thing.

Apparently, I had just a little bit of luck yesterday.  I picked up the hand which was dealt to me.  There were only clubs and hearts in the hand.  I would definitely bid on the hand, and I knew I could choose which suit I wanted to make trump.  But then I looked at the cards more carefully.  I rearranged a couple of Jacks, and I saw that I had a "lay down hand."  I could bid "null", which is essentially no trick.  There was no way anyone could make me take a trick with the hand I held. 

Now, I'm German, and the unwritten rules of Skat say that no one at any time can show any sort of emotion.  I made my bid.  One of the other gentlemen pushed the "skat" toward me, and I simply pushed them back.  I turned over my hand and laid it out.

There was no need to play.

They saw perfection too.

A rare thing.

I won sixty points on the hand.  But I didn't win the game.

Another player was having a very good day, and he carried the most points.

I came in second.

I had one other really good hand the rest of the afternoon.  The rest of the time, I suffered through some pretty bad cards.

But there was still that moment of absolute beauty.

There was still that moment of perfection.

I think many people play cards and dominoes because there is always that possibility of getting that perfect hand.  There is always that possibility of having an opportunity to bid or bet a no lose hand.  You can suffer through an absolutely horrible run of luck, and it can change in a few moments when you look at something just a little differently and see perfection.

Sometimes, I think life is like that.  Sometimes I think we get surrounded by streaks of bad luck.  Sometimes we get caught up in boring routines.  But there is always that chance of seeing perfection.  There is always that chance of seeing beauty.  There is always that chance of being caught up in the wonderful mystery of life when you feel connected to something greater than you are. 

For Christians, this is a sensation of feeling connected to God in a marvelous, almost magical sort of way.  We call them mystical experiences--the times we come face to face in this world with the hand of the Almighty. 

Such experiences offer comfort and hope in the midst of life.  They offer us reasons to go on when things are tough.  They cut us to the core and help us say to ourselves, "This life is definitely worth living."  And they point us to the ultimate hope of the day when we will be in the presence of God in its perfection for eternity.

This life is not perfect.

Neither is any card game.

But, there is a chance of getting a perfect hand.

Just like there's a chance of seeing the perfection of God here and now.

And when it happens, we can marvel.

We can wonder.

We can enjoy the moment.

We can celebrate.

And give thanks that we had such an opportunity.

Even though we might not experience it again for a long time, we can live in assurance that it did happen, and that it can happen again.