WHEN OUR KIDS were young, we played a lot of games as a family, mostly board games. Careers was a favorite, as were Payday and Clue. Honestly, I don’t even know which of these games still exist. The Careers game we played was from my childhood; I bought it in middle school with allowance money I had saved up for just that purpose. It cost me three and a half bucks, brand new. Try getting a cup of coffee for that now.
But that’s not what family therapists mean by a “family game.” These are repetitive negative patterns of interaction in which family members feel stuck. They may want to stop playing but often can’t, because they feel compelled to somehow “win” the game — or at least, to avoid losing.
Think, for example, of a married couple having an argument. Each wants to be heard. Each wants to be validated and understood. But neither is willing to listen — at least not without a prior guarantee that the other person will listen to them when it’s their turn. Without that confidence, they keep pushing to be heard, getting louder and more insistent, which only makes it harder for the other person to listen.
But even if some part of them realizes this is happening, they keep playing the game of trying to get the other person to back down. And in time, someone may back down, out of sheer exhaustion if nothing else. Is the other person therefore the “winner”? If so, it’s a hollow victory. And while things may calm down for a while, when the next disagreement comes up, the game resumes.
IN FAMILIES AND other relationships, we often follow implicit rules about who’s supposed to say what to whom, and when. Some of these games can be positive and intentional. My wife and I, for example, have a game we play several times a week before bedtime. We both brush our teeth and wash our faces before bed, but usually not at the same time; I’m typically the first to do it. When I emerge from the bathroom, she asks, “Are you all washed up?” And my response is always, “That’s what they tell me.” It’s our way of joking about being retirement age (though I’m not retired…yet), and it still makes us smile.
On the other side, though, I also remember how, some fifty or so years ago, I told my mother that my girlfriend (now my wife) and I were intending to get married. She seemed to take it in stride; we had been dating for four years, so it was hardly a surprise. But then she said with a sigh, “You know, when you two get married, your father I will probably get divorced.”
I could feel her words pulling for a specific response and felt manipulated. I remember responding calmly but firmly, “I’m sorry to hear that, Mom. But I guess you have to do what you have to do.”
Her expression went blank for a few seconds. Then she recovered, reached over, and slugged me in the arm. “You’re not supposed to say that!” she said. But to her credit, she wasn’t angry. I had outed the game, and she accepted it.
If any of this sounds familiar, though, you probably know that it doesn’t always go so smoothly. People can stay locked in the same games for years. Until someone is willing to take the risk of being vulnerable, the game may never end.
WHY AM I telling you this? Because many of us, at the end of each year, hope the next year will be different. We want certain things to change, and we know it begins with us. So we make commitments to eat better, exercise more, be nicer, and perhaps even be “better” Christians in some way.
And sometimes, it works — for a while. Unfortunately, within a matter of weeks or even days, we’re often back to the same old same old. It’s not that we don’t want change; at least some part of us does. But there are other, louder parts of us that want other things. We may say, for example, that we want a healthier lifestyle. But how far will we get by just trying to add healthier habits on top of unhealthy ones? At some point, we have to be honest with ourselves about what we really want, and make the appropriate sacrifices. If we keep trying to pit a new exercise regime against a well-entrenched cookie habit, guess which one is going to win?
In the area of relationships, the sacrifice will probably involve some vulnerability, particularly when we realize how we’ve been stuck in the infinite loop of a game that’s self-perpetuating but has no real winner. I know: some relationships truly aren’t safe, and the very idea of making a move toward vulnerability is a frightening prospect. I get it.
At the same time, consider this: the other person in the relationship may also be frightened, unwilling to let go of whatever fragile sense of power they’re trying to maintain. Vulnerability invites vulnerability, but many are too scared to accept the invitation, at least at first. But some actually receive that invitation with relief. Much prayerful wisdom — and often, some wise counsel! — is needed to know when and how to take a risk.
Meanwhile, as we head into yet another new year, I invite you to take Paul’s words to heart. “Therefore,” the apostle declares to the often conflict-ridden believers in Corinth, “if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Cor 5:17, NIV). We already have a source of newness within us, because as Paul likes to say, we are in Christ, and Christ is also in us through the Holy Spirit.
Whatever changes we want to make, therefore, whatever changes we think we need to make, should begin there. Ask God to show you the negative patterns of relationship in which you may be stuck. Ask God to reveal the conflicting desires you may not recognize or are unwilling to change. Ask God to renew your hope that even small steps toward wholeness can be meaningful.
And thank God that we don’t have to wait until January 1st for all things to be new.

