Six weeks ago, my college-aged daughter, Julia, took my cellphone from my purse and downloaded a new game onto it.

“You don’t have to play it,” she said, “but I get extra rewards in the game when my friends sign up.”

Three of Julia’s four siblings also downloaded the game, as well as their significant others. “I just sent you a present,” Julia said to her younger brother.

There were presents in this game? My curiosity got the best of me.

At first, I only played to be a part of what my kids were doing. It was a fun way to stay connected with my older kids on the days we didn’t see one another. We even started texting tips and tricks to do better in the game.

We texted about the game so often that my oldest son, Austin—the only sibling who wasn’t playing the game and, clearly, the smartest one of us—renamed our family group chat: GAGS (Gaming Addicts Group Support). It was funny because it wasn’t true. It was just a game.

I wasn’t just chasing the temporary—I was chasing the pretend. DIANE STARK

Sense of Accomplishment?

But then I started noticing that playing the game was the first thing I did every morning. I was especially interested in a part of the game called “Today’s Quick Wins.” Every day, there were three simple tasks, and when you completed one, the game put a little check mark next to it and gave you extra rewards. If you completed all three tasks every day for a week, you got an even bigger reward. The tasks were simple things that could usually be completed in just a few minutes of playing. But every once in a while, one of the tasks was a bit harder, and I’m embarrassed to admit how much time I spent trying to complete them.

The game was taking over my day.

I’m a list-maker by nature. I love writing a to-do list and then checking off the items as I complete them. I’d read that scientists believe that the satisfying feeling we get from completing a task is due to a release of dopamine in our brains. Scientists call dopamine “the achievement hormone.” They say that our brains crave it and often don’t differentiate between an actual, real-life achievement and an imaginary one, such as in a game, for instance.

Yep, the “quick wins” in the game were giving me a dopamine rush. Getting a hit of the achievement hormone from clicking a button on my phone was so much easier than getting it from completing tasks that actually mattered. Why would I tackle the mountain of laundry when I could just roll the dice and get the same feeling? Why would I complete my own tedious to-do list when the game gave me those same little check marks for doing nothing? And, most importantly, why would I struggle through those chapters in Leviticus in my Bible reading plan when the game tricked my brain into feeling a sense of accomplishment for testing out the latest game tip my son sent in our group chat?

Realigning Priorities

A few days ago, I woke up and immediately reached for my phone, which had become my habit. As I opened the game, a thought popped into my head: “I wish I wanted to open my Bible as much as I want to play this game.”

It was a sobering thought.

As a Christian, I’ve been taught to focus on the eternal, rather than the temporary. But now, I was distracted by rolling the imaginary dice to collect imaginary money and imaginary prizes. I wasn’t just chasing the temporary—I was chasing the pretend. It was beyond silly—and maybe even a little dangerous.

It was time to make a change.

I asked God to forgive me for allowing my priorities to get so mixed up. Then I asked for His help to realign them. I decided to focus on “important wins” rather than the “quick wins” in the game. Every morning, I made a list of three important tasks to complete before opening the game. The first one was always spending time praying and reading God’s Word.

As I re-established the habit of putting God first each day, I felt something far better than a dopamine rush.

I felt peace.

Photo: ViDi Studio/stock.Adobe.com

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