Call me Tapobu. I am a gamer. My game of choice is League of Legends, but I will give almost anything a try so long as it does not contain gratuitous violence and/or excessive profanity. Not only do I play these games, I write rather extensive guides detailing the psychology behind why people do certain things in online games. In the time I’ve spent at various churches, colleges, and youth-group conventions, I’ve met some Christians that believe video games are “demonic,” and others who just think that such things are a massive waste of time. Please allow me to assure you, they are entirely the latter.
My first blog is about homesickness. As the college year has begun and many have traveled away from home to college, such a subject seems appropriate. For the last hour, I have been playing this game called Minecraft. Minecraft is a game that’s about going into a strange new world populated with all sorts of weird monsters and trying to make a home. I’m a bit new to the game, so everything was pretty foreign to me and I really had no idea what I was doing. My first priority was to make a home immediately so I wouldn’t get myself killed. After about fifteen minutes, I had made my dream home (read: 4x4x6 house made entirely out of dirt). After finishing my home, I looked around to discover exactly what my back yard entailed. Enormous lake, lots of little caves, and a giant ravine that goes down for miles and would almost certainly kill me if I were to fall in. This is…home, I guess.
Well anyway, after I’d finished exploring familiar territory, I grew braver and braver. I decided to set out across the massive world to see what else I could find. Unfortunately, I was a rather foolish adventurer who forgot to leave a trail of breadcrumbs. Needless to say, I became hopelessly lost. As minutes turned into…well, more minutes, I became strangely anxious for reasons I couldn’t understand. I had the resources to make a new home where I was, and in fact I had planned for this. But I didn’t want to make a new home. I wanted to find my way back to where I began. I wanted MY house and MY lake and MY death ravine. So I continued exploring, getting more and more lost, until night came and I was eaten by zombies.
The moral of the story is, naturally, don’t get eaten by zombies. Not good enough? Okay, how about this: If I’d tried to accept my new location as a new home, things would have turned out a lot better for me. But I didn’t and so I became brain food for the walking dead. To those who are new to this whole college experience, try not to do as I did and just bide your time until you can get home. If you do that, you won’t make life-long college friendships, and when you finally do return “home” you’ll very likely realize you’ve outgrown it and long for something else. Wherever you end up before, during, or after college, use the resources you have to make a home for yourselves. Oh, and watch out for zombies.