Dungeons and Dragons and Life

On my birthday I got to play a long session of Dungeons and Dragons with my favorite character, a fighter named Jason.  I had an amazing time and Matt and Leanna planned some special things for me.  Jason is now a level 17 fighter, he is the highest level of any of our characters, because I have played him the most.  The reason I like him so much is not because of his abilities, but because of his character and story.  

What I am starting to realize about D&D is that no matter how much you try to separate yourself from your character, you never can entirely.  At this point I have been playing D&D for three years, in-game about eight years, and over that time I have played seven different characters.  Some characters I freely admit are very like me in one characteristic or another, while other characters were deliberately built to be different from me.  But the character I made to be most different from me has turned out to be most like me, which strikes me as strangely ironic.  

Circumstantially, we’re not exactly the same.  Starting with the basics, like the fact that he is a male character, and working our way outward to details like occupation (he is a former soldier.)  He lost his parents, I lost two children.  But both of us had to work through a process of grief, anger, pain, and forgiveness.  For both of us, that took about a year and included a very significant meeting with the All-Maker (God.)  Both of us have been struggling with personal identity and purpose, both of us have struggled with repressed, uncontrolled emotions which have come out in unhealthy ways (most notably, anger), and both of us have had significant moments where we were told to “keep fighting.”  These moments have paralleled each other in real life and in the game.  And now, finally, Jason has been given a new purpose, new weapon, and embraced the light to fight the shadows.  Something that is very similar to what has happened in my life lately.  

No matter how I try to separate myself from this particular character, no matter how different I feel like our lives are, somehow, some way, our story arcs end up being parallel.  It sounds crazy to think that God cares about D&D, but I no longer believe this is a coincidence.  I have been taught so much through this character.  I can’t wait to find out what happens next in his story, but the real reason for that is that I am excited to find out what happens next in mine.

Busy

Life is busy.

What my living room typically looks like
after the little guy goes to sleep.

As the mother of a (very active and mischievous) toddler, the majority of my days are spent taking care of him, chasing after him, and cleaning up his messes.  Usually after he goes down for a nap or after he goes to bed I just have to sit for a little while and look at the chaos all around me and wonder how one small person could have caused it all.  Then I will get up and clean up his mess one more time.  But as I put away his toys and his shoes I remember the sweet little boy who loves to share them, with his adorable smile, his kisses, and this cute ways.  It makes it all worth it.  

The truth is, I love my life.  

This is the cutie I get to spend
my days with!

I am doing what I always wanted to do: I stay at home and take care of the house, I can focus full time on raising our child, and I live with some other great people to boot which helps ward off the loneliness during James’ long hours at school.  

But it can be overwhelming.  

I look at the pile of books I can’t wait to read which I am (very slowly) working my way through.  I put the baby down for a nap and, ignoring the pile of dirty dishes which desperately need to be washed I instead set up my laptop and grab a cup of coffee, answering the creative itch which I have been feeling all day.  

I think back on days where I had hours to devote to reading or watching my favorite show.  

Countless minutes to waste in any way that I wish.  I do not wish for those days back, for in spite of the busyness of my life, my time is much more profitably spent now because it has become far more precious.  Moments when I can sit down and write, uninterrupted, are much harder to find than they were before.  Dishes can be done when the baby is awake; now, I write, the words flowing out as I answer the creative urge deep within me.  Sitting in the messy kitchen, earbuds in, computer open, coffee at hand.

Life is busy.  But I am blessed.  

As a moment of quiet descends, I take it to sit back amidst the chaos and simply be thankful.  Thankful for a little time to work on my creative projects, but more thankful still for the living epistle that is being written on the pages of my son’s life.