My son and I play cards each time we get together. He lives 5 states away so it’s not often enough. While visiting recently, we sat at Starbucks having a chai and marble bread while dealing out 10 cards for our game of Gin Rummy. Game after game we picked up our cards, organized them into groupings of runs and eventually one of us completes the requirements to qualify for the title of winner. For those who don’t play, you need two threes of a kind and one four of a kind. We play until one of us cries, “Uncle” because we are tired of losing.
I must have played this game 100′s if not 1000′s of times. I always deal because I can shuffle and do the “bridge shuffle” that we both still appreciate when it flows without cards flying. With this particular hand, I dealt the cards, picked up my hand and shook my head. I put them into some kind of order hoping to make something out of nothing. As I’m was doing that he was giggling and thanking me for the “poor shuffle”. (He lays his groups of cards facedown on the table as he fulfills the requirements. He laid down two sets before we even begin the game. I was looked over my hand and wondered what I could make out of it before he won.) He picked up the first card and discarded it for me to pick up. I was pleased because it tied together two cards that just moments before were – trash bate. With this new addition, I now had one three of a kind. 
I discarded, he passed up my discard and picked from the pile. He scanned the four cards left in his hand and discarded the card he had just picked. I picked it up and placed it in my hand. As I looked over my hand to find one to toss, I saw a combination that became visible with the addition of this card. I reorganized my cards and saw how organization was taking place in my hand. Just two cards previous to that, I saw only chaos. I tossed a card and he looked at me with suspicion. “Are you going to win?”, he asks. I shrugged my shoulders because my answer was changing with each card dealt. He picked up the next card, discarded it, I pass on that card and picked up the next one. “Wow”, I thought to myself as I reorganized my cards again. I moved around a few cards and saw that I only needed one more card to win. I discarded and looked into his eyes which had been watching my major remodel. I saw uncertainty in his expression. He picked up the next card, scanned his hand, looked at me, at my cards and slowly laid down the card he had just picked up. I looked at the card and saw he had just handed me victory. I looked at him and he slightly cocked his head with a silent suspicion that he may have to endure my victory dance. I picked up the card, placed it in my hand, removed the card that had been its place keeper and laid it down – face down. I laid out my cards and shook my head. He couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. He had only needed one card – I had needed ……. a lot.
Right then, it occurred to me how life plays Gin Rummy. Metaphorically, it sometimes deals us hands that look like total trash, chaos, no matches, no use, a mistake, a mess, having no value. We shuffle them around and work with them all the while wondering if we shouldn’t just start over – throw in our entire hand and start over. Holding the cards we’re dealt, we start playing the game. Slowly we participate, one thought here and one action there. Then, because we played, we get the next card. “Hum”, we look at our cards and see a possibility. We place the card in our hand and release another. We release a card we thought we should keep – would be important, had value and significance. None the less, we release it. Next card comes and we feel ourselves smile a little. “Really?”, we find ourselves saying as we place the card in our hand. We scan our hand and see a possible match. We place it in our hand and release another card that we didn’t think we would ever let go. It represented a major foundation in our hand and we were taught we really should have one. We feel a little twinge of fear as we release that card. There it lays before us. We stare at it and wonder if we should hurry and pick it back up before anyone sees we released it. The next card is ready to be dealt to us. Are we ready to receive it or do we pick up the one we just released? The choice is ours. We nod to life, who is the dealer, for the next card. Life rolls up its sleeves because it now knows it has a 
willing participant. Next card is dealt. “No way”, we find ourselves saying our loud. “That’s …….”, and we pick up the card before completing the sentence. We place the card in our hand and feel a new strength enter with its placement. We straighten up our hand, sit up a little taller and see the beauty that is unfolding right before our eyes – being held in our own hand(s). We release another card. This card is one we identified with our whole lives. We carried it around with us because ……. everyone we know has one. We slowly push it back and forth in our hand, place it between our fingers, feel it and contemplate its release as we look at Life. We release it. Life now looks straight at us and says, “Are you going to win this?” Looking at Life, without hesitation, we say, “Deal me the next card”. The next card is dealt and we look at it, we just look at it. We look at the card laying before us and see how perfectly this less than perfect hand has unfolded. We see how many things had to fall into place for this hand to be dealt as it was. We look at life and shake our heads in amazement and gratitude. We had heard life was tough and might cheat us out of happiness. We look at the card and move gracefully towards it. We feel each heartbeat, each muscle that we use to pick it up. We feel the texture, the emotions, the freedom of placing it in our hand. We run our finger across the hand and gladly releases the card that releases us. We lay down our hand, all of it. We fan it out with the touch of an artist exhibiting their life’s work. We share our miraculous win exuding joy. We smile and look at Life who is looking at us – reflecting Our joy.
“Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but of playing a poor hand well.”
– Robert Louis Stevenson
