I'm playing the long game.

Over the past few weeks I've found myself repeating this phrase within different scenarios.

I'm playing the long game in marriage, allowing the deep love I feel for my spouse to overcome any temporary (and usually silly) differences we encounter. I love being married, and I know that playing the long game means every once in awhile giving up what I want in the moment for the sake of our lasting relationship.

I'm playing the long game in my career as a pastor, determined not to let the endless cycle of visitations, newsletters, meetings, liturgy and sermon prep (and general sense of always being "on call") to overwhelm me. I love being a pastor, I love my congregants, and I recognize that playing the long game means counteracting "burn out" by setting personal limits and realistic expectations.

I'm playing the long game in my friendships, doing my best to cherish the people who know me well. Over the years I have been richly blessed with rewarding companions, and I realize that playing the long game involves nourishing these relationships- if only occasionally- by caring and conversing about what truly matters.

I'm playing the long game in being a mother, making myself available to Briggs on his terms at the moment. Earlier today I sat down to read a bit from a pastoral book (the most relaxing part of my "day off"). About two paragraphs in, this cute little 11 month-old boy makes a beeline for Momma's lap. I couldn't help but chuckle as I recalled only getting about two paragraphs read during my previous attempt with this book. And since reading a book with tear-able pages is not an option while cuddling Briggs, I put the book down and concentrated on being a mom. I know that playing the long game as a mother means establishing a secure bond of trust with Briggs now, so he will be confident in exploring the world later (at which point, I might get to read more than 2 paragraphs, maybe).

And if I stop to consider what it is that best allows me to play the long game as a wife, pastor, friend, and mom, I realize it's consistent and meaningful prayer.

Prayer allows me--almost demands from me--time to reflect. Prayer gives linguistic substance to what I think and feel and believe. And because I'm the type of person who thinks out loud, prayer actually helps me form my perspectives. Prayer gives me a momentary chance to reflect on how I might best "play the long game" in my many (simultaneous) vocations.

Here's one of my favorites: "Jesus, thank you for this life; help me live it to the fullest. Amen."

And here's one I should maybe begin praying: "Jesus, help me play the long game. Amen."