Cards That Are Dealt

“You play the hand you're dealt. I think the game's worthwhile.” ~C.S. Lewis

An interesting quote that many people say, 'you play the cards you were dealt with.' The meaning of which is that we end up in circumstances that we simply have to live with. Those circumstances could be under or out of our control at any given moment in time.

We may not even be able to hold the cards given us. A bad tendon in need of repair which causes you to drop the cards from time to time. Yet the surgery requires a cast that also prevents us from effectively holding those cards. But time will heel, the cast will come off, rehabilitation of the situation and we are back to playing those cards with ease.

The other side of being dealt the cards are those that you deal. We each make decisions in life, good and bad, which determine our circumstance. So making those choices will have an impact on the cards we deal to our self.

As C.S. Lewis said, "I think the game's worthwhile" and I couldn't agree more. Life is a wondrous thing and I wouldn't have it any other way.

The Roads by C. S. Lewis

I stand on the windy uplands among the hills of Down
With all the world spread out beneath, meadow and sea and town,
And ploughlands on the far-off hills that glow with friendly brown.

And ever across the rolling land to the far horizon line,
Where the blue hills border the misty west, I see the white roads twine,
The rare roads and the fair roads that call this heart of mine.

I see them dip in the valleys and vanish and rise and bend
From shadowy dell to windswept fell, and still to the West they wend,
And over the cold blue ridge at last to the great world’s uttermost end.

And the call of the roads is upon me, a desire in my spirit has grown
To wander forth in the highways, ‘twixt earth and sky alone,
And seek for the lands no foot has trod and the seas no sail has known:

For the lands to the west of the evening and east of the morning’s birth,
Where the gods unseen in their valleys green are glad at the ends of the earth
And fear no morrow to bring them sorrow, nor night to quench their mirth.

(From Spirits in Bondage; Heinemann, 1919)
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