Just a short post today. I’m sure there’s much more Catan could open my eyes to, but just one more for this little series.
This time, I’m moving away from strategy. I’ve said before that Catan is a game of luck made to look like a game of strategy. That’s a little unfair, of course. Strategy has its place. But if the dice don’t roll the right numbers, even the best planning goes out the window.
The thing is, the dice don’t always realise which numbers they’re supposed to roll. In my last game, I’m fairly sure 5 and 3 appeared far more often than 6 and 8. I’ll leave you to work out the probabilities.
Here’s the thing: when your numbers aren’t rolled, you sit there watching the dice land.
Three.
Five.
Nine.
Someone else collects. Roads extend. Settlements grow. You glance at your cards and realise you’re still holding the same hand you had two rounds ago, and there’s still no wood in the game.
At one point someone asks, “Does anyone have wood to trade?”
“Roll a 6 and I will!”
We laugh or roll our eyes. But there is truth in it. The willingness is there. The ability is not.
You aren’t doing anything wrong. You just aren’t receiving anything new.
There’s a particular frustration in that kind of waiting. You’re ready. If an 8 rolled, you could build. If a 6 appeared, the resource you need might finally be up for trade. But readiness does not create results.
You cannot force a roll.
You can only play on, taking your turn and watching others get ahead.
I wonder how much of the spiritual life feels like that. We prepare. We pray. We try to live faithfully. And sometimes growth feels tangible and visible. Other times it feels as though everyone else is building while we sit with the same small handful of resources. I know there have been seasons of my life that felt like that, like I was stuck in limbo while others moved forward.
Scripture is surprisingly honest about waiting. Abraham waited. Hannah waited. The disciples waited between promise and Pentecost. Even resurrection had a silent Saturday. All of them living between what had been promised and what had not yet arrived.
Waiting is not absence. It is a space where trust grows roots instead of branches. You can’t always see it, but by choosing to stay present, to keep praying, something steadier is being formed.
In Catan, the wise player doesn’t storm off when the dice misbehave. They stay attentive. They watch the board. They keep track of what others are building. They prepare for when the number finally does roll.
Perhaps faith is something like that. Not frantic striving. Not giving up. Just staying at the table.
Sometimes the number comes quickly. Sometimes it doesn’t. But the story isn’t over just because your turn was quiet.
The Reason for my Hope Blog 