In a Sunday afternoon game of Battleship with my six year old, I was reminded why this game brings such excitement. The way I overanalyze how to strategically place my ships and the way the little plastic pegs feel in my fingertips as I place them after hearing “hit” or “miss” feels like a timewarp of my childhood. The system of predicting where my son has placed his ships gets easier over time because his strategy of game play often reveals itself the more often we play. His patterns of grouping ships together in hopes of throwing me into a world of confusion is something that I have picked up on after playing him over and over again. Today, it dawned on me that life is often like a game of Battleship. It’s full of moves and counter moves. If I take my stance here or there, the consequence is this or that. The difference is in life, my opponent isn’t sitting across from me moving plastic ships on a board. Even more, my opponent isn’t flesh and blood- it’s against the enemy. And by the enemy, I mean Satan himself (Eph 6:12-13).

As the schemer of all schemers, he is well studied my patterns and acquainted with my routines. He knows all my weaknesses and is able to predict when I may lower my guard. He is always trying to pile on guilt, sink my ship, and make me fall into a pit so deep that I am left swimming in a sea of hopelessness. He studies my every move, like a well-gamed opponent.  Although he wants to beat me at the game, he ultimately wants to forever separate me from my Heavenly Father. He wants me to shift my allegiance from the Lord of Lords, to the Father of Lies. 

Although he may know many things about me, I also have learned many things about him. Much like he spends time studying me, I have assessed his seedy schemes. I know that in my weaknesses, he will attack with temptation. I know that in my times of doubt, he will whisper lies in my ear. I know that in my attempt to run, he will chase me down and remind me of my failures. He wants to isolate me and defeat me until I no longer want a rematch in the game he plays.

However my opponent isn’t immune to errors. He becomes more predictable and easy to spot. He becomes prideful and more brazen in his attempts to chart my ship off course. But my opponent’s biggest error? Underestimation. The enemy underestimates that while my ship may be sailing on the choppy and harsh waters of life, it is anchored in the hope of Christ (Hebrews 6:19). And that hope is built on rock, not sinking sand.