Inspired Family Games

Too Old For ThisIsaiah 29:13

The father who gets the yes and never gets the son, and who needs to stop grading presence and take what has actually been given.

EliasAppalachian repentance

10 min

Ezekiel 18:2

It Ends In Tears

He Says Yes And He Is Somewhere Else

Messages

I Am Playing Against A Memory

He Mentioned Something From Twelve Years Ago

The Box Has Not Been Opened Since Winter

I End Every Game By Explaining It

I Stopped Being The One Who Suggests It

She Leaves In A Year And I Am Counting

Tonight Is Just An Ordinary Tuesday

He Says Yes And He Is Somewhere Else

I Can Only Think Of What They Did Wrong

I Think The Good Years Are Behind Us

My Praise Has Stopped Meaning Anything

The House Got Quiet One Person At A Time

I Was Crushed At A Table Once

I Was That Teenager And Never Said So

Twenty Minutes Feels Like A Failure

The Hour Goes To Whoever Needs It Most

I Decided They Were Past This

I Was Counting Who Came

Only One Of Them Is Home

I Let Him Win And He Knew

There Is No Surface To Put It On

They Still Talk About It Four Years Later

I Wanted It To Go Well Too Much

I Cannot Stop When The Timer Goes

We Spend The Hour Deciding What To Do

The Phone Goes And I Stop Bothering

I Keep Waiting For The Big Occasions

I Have Been Discounting Small Things For Years

I Stopped Asking Because Of The No

I Never Say What I Liked About It

I Played To Win Against A Seven Year Old

Twenty Minutes Is Not Worth Starting

I Am Tired Of Being The Referee

I Put It Away Myself After That Night

I Apologize For Them To Them

He Hovers At The Edge Every Time

He Stays By The Door The Whole Time

I Can See The Ending From The Start

I Asked Once And Took It As Forever

Everybody Has Twenty And Never The Same Twenty

I Cannot Bear To Look Like I Am Trying

I Got Them In One Room And Nobody Talked

She Has Never Met My Actual Self

I Am In The Chair And I Am Not Here

I Think It Is My Fault For Starting

I Hate Being The One Who Calls It

We Always Go Five Minutes Too Long

I Put The Hour In And Worked Through It

Four Hours With Friends, Twenty Minutes Here

I Give The Twenty Minutes To The Tidying

I Never Let Any Of Them Lose

Somebody Always Leaves The Table

I Cannot Get The Words Out At The Table

He Asked Why I Always Lose

I Kept It Fair And It Ended Badly Anyway

I Keep Making The Hour Heavy

He Is Better Than Me Now

All In The House And None In The Same Room

We Are Not That Kind Of Family

They Tell A Story I Was Not In

I Have Been Waiting For A Good Moment

I Have Not Looked At Them In A Week

Is Asking Again Love Or Pressure

I Work Evenings And I Think I Missed It

By The Time We Have Cleared Up There Is Nothing Left

I Run The Evening And I Am Never In It

I Am The One Who Ends Up Shouting

Nothing Memorable Has Happened Here In Years

She Has Stopped Asking So Loudly

Those Two Cannot Be At One Table

We Spend The Twenty Getting Ready

I Only Remember What Went Wrong

She Is Fifteen And She Looks At Me

I Keep Saving It For A Better Twenty Minutes

I Photograph Everything And Remember None Of It

My Twenty Minutes Are At The Wrong End Of The Day

I Cannot Get The Same Hour Free

She Won And She Was Not Happy